


set down your glass

by evocates



Series: signal fire [3]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cast interactions are really fun to write, Except when he's having a penis measuring contest with James and Ian, Gender Related, M/M, Martin is the only sane man of this cast, Unresolved Sexual Tension, impregnation kink without actual mpreg, seriously there's so much UST before it's resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/pseuds/evocates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard wanted to have Graham, but he now he has Lee and Lee is nothing like what he expected him to be. Expectations, Richard learns, are overrated. Otherwise known as: Lee has secrets, Richard has revelations, and the author likes fucking around with Omegaverse a little too much. </p><p>Filling the prompts on hobbit_kink for <a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/6124.html?thread=14608364">confident!omega!Lee and shy!alpha!Richard</a> and <a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=13111507">fake relationship</a>.</p><p>Now finally COMPLETE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Сквозь стекло](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294488) by [Licht_Macabre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Licht_Macabre/pseuds/Licht_Macabre)



> In the same Alpha/Beta/Omega ‘verse as [_signal fire_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/23468), but it’s not necessary to read that one.
> 
> The title is taken from a Snow Patrol song.

**Part I  
**  
Richard should have realised it the moment he saw Lee in Thranduil’s wig. A waterfall of silk that curled over his shoulders, falling over his jaw and cheekbones, softening the sharp angles, making the clean-shaven skin glow. He should have known it by then, because Lee was beautiful as Thranduil, beautiful in a way no Alpha was supposed to be beautiful.

But he didn’t; it was impossible for him to. Lee was _tall_ , taller than Richard, and Richard spent most of his life hunching over so he didn’t intimidate people. He was an Alpha and he _should_ want to, but then again, Richard hated the idea that his biology should determine his entire personality. Richard always thought that people shouldn’t be determined by their biology, and that in this age of suppressants and colognes and fake pheromones, hierarchies shouldn’t matter anymore.

He always liked thinking he was an open-minded person; somehow he found that he wasn’t open-minded _enough,_ because he couldn’t help but be surprised that Lee- no, _no_ , he was telling this story terribly.

The story, if his life could be said to be a story at all, began with Graham.

***

Logically, Richard thought, there should be no way for anyone to make eating a sandwich adorable, especially when they were an Alpha male as dominatingly huge as Graham. But Richard had long realised that his emotions and logic weren’t very good friends, and he sighed quietly, sinking down further into his chair. The wood creaked softly and Richard tried not to wince; tried not to make himself even smaller because he knew that wouldn’t work from experience and he didn’t want to break chairs at work again.

Christ. He lifted his eyes and fixed them upon Graham again so he wouldn’t keep thinking about how he might break the chair if he wasn’t careful. Richard knew that the materials here were likely as not to be made Alpha-proof – unlike _Lord of the Rings_ , a whole bunch of the cast here are Alphas – but he wouldn’t want to test it. 

Seriously, breaking one chair in his lifetime was enough. That happened more than twenty years ago, but Richard still couldn’t forget about it. Right, Graham.

It was lunch break at the moment and all of the actors were crowded into the craft tent. Graham was eating a sandwich while passing out pictures of his baby daughter that his wife had apparently just sent him. Richard was too far away to hear what he was babbling about, but given the wide smile on his face, he could guess what Graham was saying.

The chair creaked again. Richard used the excuse to wince.

“Don’t worry, it’s not yours.”

The voice startled him; he was so focused on Graham. Richard blinked, turning his head, and he watched Lee – half-dressed as Thranduil with his blond wig and makeup on, but in t-shirt and jeans – dig into his pockets and pull out a pack of cigarettes.

“Sorry?”

“Your chair,” Lee muttered around the cigarette in his mouth. “It’s not creaking. It was mine.” He rocked back and forth, his long legs making his chair protest in tiny little squeaks. Richard stared at it. “See?”

“You shouldn’t do that,” Richard said automatically, and he ducked his head when he realised how rude he sounded, like he was trying to tell Lee what to do.

“If it breaks, it breaks. Won’t be the first time it happened.” 

Lee took out a box of matches and lit his cigarette. He looked up at Richard, wreathed momentarily with smoke, and grinned. “I lost my lighter somewhere and I bummed matches off someone. I didn’t think anyone made these things anymore.” He waved the box around, little puffs of smoke escaping his lips. “Sorry, I forgot to ask – you don’t mind if I smoke, right?”

“I don’t,” Richard said. He wrecked his mind, looking for something else to say, but nothing came to him. His eyes drifted towards Graham again before he forcibly looked back to Lee. 

Lee seemed almost entirely comfortable in his body, lounging with his long limbs spread all over the small wooden director’s chair. Richard watched as he tipped his head back and exhaled a long, satisfied sigh, blowing a heavy cloud of smoke upwards. There were words on his tongue suddenly, and Richard wanted to ask just _how_ Lee managed to be so comfortable in his body when Richard was shorter than he was and always felt like a huge hulking creature, a damned bull in a china shop.

He hadn’t broken anything for a long time, but he couldn’t help but be afraid, nonetheless. As the saying went, the world was made for Betas, and most things weren’t made to withstand an Alpha’s careless strength. Richard had always been so terribly _careful_.

“So, Graham, huh?”

Richard blinked, jarred out of his thoughts. “Pardon me?”

Reaching back, Lee pulled Thranduil’s hair over his shoulder. The platinum blond strands fell over his eyes and Lee’s eyes crossed slightly as he blew them away and tucked the wig back behind his made-up, pointed ears. He flashed Richard a smile.

“I might be taking a wild guess here,” Lee said, and he turned his head away to blow out another stream of smoke before he glanced back towards Richard. “But I’m thinking that you like Graham. I’ve seen you staring at him.”

His hands were shaking just the slightest bit. Richard swallowed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said hoarsely.

Lee watched him with intense dark eyes. He folded himself back in, elbows on his knees, and the movement was so graceful and Richard suddenly hated him, hated the easy confidence he had, hated the way he seemed so at ease with his body, and he thought that maybe if he had _that_ , Graham might notice him.

But then again, Graham had never really noticed Lee either. He was far too besotted with his wife, and Richard knew that Gwen was an Omega, and she had plenty to offer Graham that Richard never could.

He rubbed at his mouth and stared at his hands again.

“Maybe,” he said quietly, and the absurdity of the situation struck him suddenly. Here he was talking about an infatuation he wasn’t even supposed to have – not only because Graham was married, but also because he was an Alpha, and despite all that Ian and the other activists for homohierachal relationships had done, prejudices still ruled the day – to someone who seemed to have everything he ever wished for. Richard would laugh, but it didn’t seem appropriate.

Lee sighed. He stood up, walking over to Richard, and squatted down in front of Richard. Dark, changeable eyes caught his again, and Richard stared at them, not knowing what to do until Lee smiled. 

“Look, this is a shit place to talk about something like this,” Lee said. “Come over to my trailer when you’re done with packing Thorin away for the day?”

“It’ll be late,” Richard said, and the protest sounded weak to his own ears. It sounded like an excuse. “I have a long day.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Lee waved a hand. He seemed to suddenly notice the cigarette he still held in his hand, and he stubbed it out on the grass-covered ground. “Don’t worry about the time. Just come over, alright?”

Richard fell silent for a long while. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk; he did, sometimes so badly it seemed that the words wanted to pour out of his throat until he was left empty of his secrets, of everything he kept inside because he didn’t know how to talk about it. He looked into Lee’s eyes and he found no recrimination there, no judgment, and he swallowed.

“Alright.”

Lee smiled. Looking back, Richard thought he should have known by then, or at least _suspected_ , because when Lee smiled he looked so sweet, so incredibly gentle. Then Lee was standing up again, towering over him, and his hand was strong on Richard’s shoulder, and any kind of suspicions he might have faded away.

“I’ll see you later, then.”

*

They were friends, he and Lee were. They had been friends since the first screen test they did together for Thorin and Thranduil even though their characters were supposed to be enemies. Then again, Richard realised that it took a special kind of friendship with a person to be able to play enemies, because there would always be lines crossed, personal bubbles burst. It took trust to allow someone to step into your face and grab you by your collar and threaten to strangle you, and still feel confident enough that you wouldn’t be hurt; confident enough to continue _acting_ instead of reacting instinctively as himself.

Briefly, he regretted it that Azog would be a CGI monster. At least Thranduil was real, was _Lee_ , and they could talk about dynamics that way. It was difficult to establish chemistry with a puppet on a green screen; Richard was a method actor, but there were still _some_ limitations to his imagination.

The line between himself and Thorin was finer than it was for most actors, and Richard knew he immersed himself deeply into a role and sometimes found it difficult to claw his way out, but at the same time the only way he could dip his head in that far was the sheer _trust_ he had for the people around him, knowing that they would keep him from going in too far. After all, he wasn’t exactly suicidal. 

He was so caught up in his own thoughts (as a manner of distracting himself, really, because if he wasn’t thinking about work he was thinking of Graham) that he nearly walked into Lee’s trailer door. Muttering under his breath, Richard took a step back, and knocked.

“Door’s not locked,” Lee said, and the sound was muffled. “Come in!”

Richard pushed the door open. Lee’s trailer was neat, probably neater than his own was, and he looked around. Lee was fully de-wigged and de-eared, and he was dressed in the same t-shirt and jeans he wore before- Richard’s thoughts stopped.

Right at Lee’s elbow was a needle, and one of his shirt-sleeves was rolled up.

Lee caught him looking, and he smiled, picking up the needle and standing up. He tossed the needle into a nearby wastebasket and patted the bed next to him.

“I’m diabetic,” Lee said, and his voice was completely casual. “I promise I’m not doing drugs or anything.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” said Richard automatically, and he winced because he _was_ thinking that. “Sorry, it probably isn’t my business anyhow.”

“Hey, we’re a bunch of actors stuck on a strange continent together without anyone else to bother and I’m meddling into your business already,” Lee laughed. He patted the bedspread again. “Please sit down? My neck hurts from looking up.”

Looking around, Richard found a chair. He grabbed it and dropped placed it opposite the bed and sat down. Lee gave him a look, and he tried his best to not blush.

“So--”

“Is it hard?” Richard cut it. “Being diabetic, I mean.”

Lee gave him another look, but he laughed almost immediately, shaking his head. “I don't think you came here to talk about a condition I have that you don't even know I have before you walked in, Rich.”

Richard rubbed the back of his neck. That was the disarming and yet completely likeable part about Lee – that he called Richard out on his bullshit, but at the same time managed to not mock him about it. Somehow it reminded Richard of Graham, and he sighed quietly, turning his eyes up to Lee. This was the problem he always had when talking about himself – he had no idea how to begin. Interviews were fine because they were questions and he just had to talk about _acting_ , and talking about his characters were always so much easier than talking about himself. Especially when someone was looking at him so quietly and expectantly like Lee was right now.

“Look, uh, let's go out and watch a film or something right now,” he said almost impulsively. It wasn't a bad idea; you weren't allowed to talk in a film, and Richard would be allowed to think about what he wanted to say in the darkness.

“Alright,” Lee replied after a long pause. “I think _Prometheus_ is out right now; how about that?”

Richard had no idea that someone named a film after a Greek Titan, but he shrugged, standing up.

“Sure.”

*

They ended up talking in the film.

The theatre was almost empty – it was late night on a weekday, and it seemed that no one was crazy enough to try to catch a Ridley Scott film weeks after its release when they had work tomorrow. They chose a seat in the corner at the back, and Richard kept his eyes straight on the screen.

“I like Graham,” he said, and his voice was so quiet that it almost blended together with the voices from the screen. If Lee asked him what was happening right now, Richard would have no idea. “I know he's married, but I can't help but like him.”

Lee placed his hand above Richard's wrist, squeezing it gently before moving away. He didn't turn to look even though Richard was watching him, trying to gauge his reaction, from the corner of his eyes.

“It's this thing I have,” Richard said. He took a deep breath. “Alphas. I only... I only have a thing for Alphas.”

The sound from the speakers continued. Richard tried to listen so he could say that he knew _something_ of the film if the rest of the cast asked him about it, but he knew that if things kept going like this, he was more than likely to look it up on Wikipedia for any form of knowledge.

Lee hadn't spoken a single word.

“It's not- it's not anything about Alphas in particular, which makes it worse, I think. Somehow the world always seems a little bit too fragile and I'm always afraid that people will break if I'm not careful enough,” Richard said, and he was surprised at how level his voice sounded. He kept his eyes straight forward, staring at a little corner of the screen.

“Not really,” Lee said, and there was the barest hint of amusement there, like he thought that Richard was being silly. Richard knew he was, and he appreciated that Lee was trying to hide it.

“I know,” he said instead. “But I still can't help but feel that way. It's ironic and fitting at the same time that I'm playing a Dwarf, isn't it? They might be small, but they are strong, really strong, and they are surrounded by stone and metal and mountains. I don't think Thorin has ever been afraid that he'll break a Dwarf by touching them.”

“It's a funny thing, how hierarchies don't seem to matter in text and film, but it still somehow matters,” Lee spoke so quietly that Richard had to lean in to hear him. “I know what you mean, Rich. Not about breaking people, but when someone looks at me and sees Alpha, and there's always...”

Richard swallowed. “Always that moment when they look at you with just a tinge of fear, no matter what you've done or what you haven't done.”

“Mm,” Lee said. He turned around suddenly, and his eyes were blue-green, like the sea at night. They should be nearly invisible in the darkness of the theatre, yet somehow Richard could almost see them glowing. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Did he? It was safe here in the dark theatre, in a place where Richard could talk and pretend that Lee couldn't hear him baring his secrets for him to see; in this place where he found his calling and thought he could be _someone else_ , someone who didn't feel clumsy and overly large and had all the confidence in the world.

But Richard's skin itched, and he wanted to look at Lee properly, not through heavy shadows. Lee's grace caught him the very first time they met, and Richard found himself tethering between wanting to _be_ like him and resenting him. 

Then again, Lee seemed afraid as well, even if it was something a little bit different from what Richard felt.

“Yeah,” he found himself saying. “Yeah, let's get out of here.”

When Richard stood, he realised just how _long_ Lee's legs were; the back of the theatre seats reached Richard's hips, but they barely brushed the top of Lee's thighs. Lee was all limbs, gangly and lanky and Richard remembered when he was a really tall teenager, towering over everyone, his Alpha strength coming in and making him break doorknobs, locker doors, and on one memorable occasion he bent his school desk into two from the sheer force of his uncontrolled strength.

He thought that maybe Lee understood. Maybe not exactly the same thing, but somehow it was similar. That moment when Richard realised he didn't feel like he fitted very well in this world. He could see it in Lee's smile, soft at the edges of his lips with a wry sadness in his eyes that Richard knew all too well.

It was that smile that made his chest felt lighter, far more than simply talking.

***

They talked. Not about Graham and Richard's unresolved issues, because there was no use belabouring the point, but they talked, nonetheless. Usually, if their schedules coincide, they would drive down to the nearest restaurant and buy take-out and wine (because, as Lee said once, he might play a piemaker, but no one trusted him near a stove; and he might play an Elf, but he couldn't subsist on salads forever) before driving back to one of their rented houses, eat, and talked.

Sometimes it was shop-talk about Shakespeare, especially _Richard III_. Sometimes it was about the cast and crew and the film they were making together. There were a few nights when Lee would tease him about his accent, and Richard would laugh and call Lee a Yank, and they would start talking about the various accents they heard throughout their nomadic lifestyles as actors.

Mostly, they just talked. Lee's place was thoughtfully furnished for tall Alphas, and after the first few visits, Richard stopped being afraid that he would break something by sitting on it too hard. They were friends; the two Kings who were far more awkward than regal but who managed to fool people into thinking they were nobility.

It was comfortable, and Richard didn't think it was anything more than just two castmates socialising together until three weeks or so after they (didn't) watch _Prometheus_ together.

Fittingly, Graham was the first person who said anything about it.

“So,” Graham said as he slid into the bench next to Richard. It was breakfast in the crafts tent and most of them were half-dressed – either made-up, or costumed, none of them both – and his voice was muffled by his chewing on the griddled scone that he somehow wrangled the caterers into making for him.

Graham had this thing about personal space. Meaning that Graham probably thought it was something of a quaint snack and he didn't bother to acknowledge it. He always barged his way in, bursting bubbles in his wake, but despite his huge size and his obvious strength, Graham never really managed to seem _threatening._ Richard read Roald Dahl when he was growing up, and though Graham was not anywhere near thin (that would be Lee), he reminded Richard of the BFG.

Right now he was so close that Richard could almost feel his body heat. The only reason Richard didn't know the exact temperature of Graham's breath was because of the clothes he was wearing. He ducked his head down to stare at his cereal, pretending that he was focusing on not getting cornflakes on Thorin's beard instead of trying really hard not to blush.

“Yeah?” he asked eventually, peeking at Graham through the corner of his eyes.

“You and Lee, huh.”

Richard felt that he was safe from the threat of blushing. He finally turned to Graham, lips parted, but when his brain registered the comment his jaw shut with a _click_. “Huh?”

“You and Lee,” Graham repeated patiently. “You two are keeping up a fine Tolkien tradition at this rate.”

There was something Richard was clearly missing. “I don't know what you're talking about.” He glanced at his cornflakes, and winced a little when he realised that the milk was making it soggy and he probably shouldn't eat it like that in front of Graham. Or with Thorin's beard on, for the matter. 

“First Sean Bean and Viggo Mortensen, and now you and Lee.” Even though Richard still couldn't look at him directly, he could tell that Graham was grinning. “You two are starting to make this Alpha-dating thing a tradition.”

“It's not an Alpha-dating thing,” Richard protested. “There is no...” he waved a hand vaguely in the air, “ _thing_ between Lee and me. We're friends.”

“If I asked Orlando, do you think that he will tell me Bean said the exact same thing when he was asked about his relationship with Mortensen?” Graham's eyebrow was climbing steadily up his forehead, and Richard realised with a start that this wasn't a joke. At least, it wasn't _entirely_ a joke – Graham seemed to be completely convinced about what he was saying.

That was... odd. Richard rubbed at the edge of his mouth. He looked at his cereal for some answers but nothing came to him.

“There's really nothing,” he said quietly, and winced. He should have said that Alphas weren't his type – that should kill the rumours nicely, if there were rumours at all – but he couldn't lie. Not to Graham; not when every glance he took of the other man proved him wrong.

Graham frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Do you want there to be, Rich?”

What Richard wanted, really wanted, was for the conversation to be over. It was far too surreal for six o'clock in the morning. He looked around himself, trying to find an escape.

Martin walked over to them and smacked Graham on the back of his head. If Graham had a thing about personal space, then Martin had the same issue, but with casual violence.

“I can tell that the two of you are being fish-wives from all over the other end of the tent,” Martin said tartly, sounding pissed off and grumpy (in other words, like himself). Richard picked up his untouched cup of tea and handed it wordlessly to Martin, who took a big gulp.

“Thanks. Anyway, Pete says we have to be on set in half an hour, so get your arses in gear and move to Costumes.” He took another sip of the tea. “Christ, when the fuck did I become a messenger? Why am I even telling you this? Why did I even walk over?” He turned around, stopped. “Thanks for the tea, Rich.”

Before Richard could tell him he was welcome or give any form of answer, Martin was already walking away again, leaving the conversation as abruptly as he left it. Fully dressed in Bilbo's gear, he looked so much like a Hobbit that Richard shoved a spoonful of soggy cereal into his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud.

Graham had no such qualms. He was practically howling beside Richard. “Thanks!” he shouted to Martin's back before he turned around and stage-whispered, “I think our resident hobbit really needs to get laid.”

A roll, neatly-wrapped in plastic, bounced off Graham's bald head. Graham picked it up from the bench where it had fallen and tore open the plastic, shoving the thing at Richard without a single whit of remorse on his face.

Richard laughed as Martin gave them the finger without even turning his back. He popped the roll into his mouth, chewing on it absentmindedly. 

There was one thing he learned throughout filming: breakfast with the cast was never, ever dull.

***

But it bothered him, what Graham said. When the day ended and Lee – fully and finally de-elved – fell in step beside him as they walked towards the parking lot, Richard was still thinking about it.

They were in his car and Lee was strapping the seatbelt on before he could even think of something to say. (It was easier to talk to Lee after so much practice, but it still wasn't exactly _easy_ to start a conversation.)

“Graham told me something today,” he said finally, and hid his wince as he started the car and backed out of the lot.

“Did he profess his ever-lasting love for you and say that he's divorcing his wife?” Lee asked, his tone so serious that Richard glanced over to him to make sure that he was smiling. When he saw that Lee was, he reached over and punched him on the arm. Lee laughed in response, shaking his head. “Watch the road, you.”

“Don't attempt to give me orders, _Elf_ ,” Richard shot back, his voice dipping low into Thorin's harsh, rasping growl.

“As always your pride has blinded you, Thorin Oakenshield,” Lee's American accent bled away so quickly, replaced by Thranduil's crisp, cold consonants. “I have merely stated what needs to be done to ensure our safety. Will you stare at me instead of the road all night and get us into an accident-- alright.” Lee held up his hands, breaking back into his usual Southern American music. “I can't do it anymore. The idea of Thorin driving a car is way too weird.”

Richard laughed out loud even as he obediently turned back to the road and drove out of the driveway of the studio. The last remnant of Thorin faded from his shoulders, and Richard slumped back to the leather seat with a sigh.

“You know, I think Thorin might just be one of those stereotypical Alpha males who won't consider asking for directions even when it's obvious that he's lost,” Lee said, still chuckling. “It's a good thing that Gandalf's leading the way.”

“Mm,” Richard said. He stared hard in front of him. The roads were empty at this time of the night; they ended late again, late enough that they had dinner at the catering tents. Yet they were still going home together, and Richard's mind turned back to Graham's words.

“Graham thinks we're dating.”

Lee stopped laughing. “What?”

“He thinks we're dating. Following Bean and Mortensen's footsteps,” Richard gave an uneasy laugh. “His words, not mine.”

Darting a look sideways, Richard frowned slightly when he saw a strange, almost triumphant look cross Lee's face. 

“That's odd,” Lee said. “Did he tell you why he thinks that way?”

“Because of all the time we spend together.” Richard could feel heat starting to creep up his neck, and he coughed quietly. “Which is silly, I know. I tried to tell him that but I didn't have a chance because we had to get ready for filming.”

And everyone knew that it was useless trying to talk to Thorin Oakenshield about Richard Armitage during the work day, even when the cameras weren't running.

Lee made a small noise. He shifted slightly on the seat, leather squeaking softly against the rough denim of his jeans. Richard swallowed, turning his eyes away to focus on the road. He was staring so hard that he missed it when Lee spoke again.

“I'm sorry?”

“I asked if you mind what the others think about us,” Lee repeated, and there was a peculiar smile on his lips. “Especially Graham, since he's the one you want.”

Did he mind? The answer was both simpler and more complicated than he would have thought. He _should_ mind; he should because Graham was the one he liked, Graham with his big hands and easy laugh; Graham who threw the assumption that Alphas shouldn't be friends with each other to approach him first. But Graham was married, forever out of reach (because Richard wouldn't ever think of Graham leaving his wife for _him_ as a real possibility; it was just too cruel), and Lee was...

Lee was something else. Lee had sharp eyes and a grace Richard knew he could never match. He took a deep breath, and admitted quietly to himself that Lee smelled _good_. Lee had a curious scent, the musky scent of the cologne he wore and something sweeter underneath, something that Richard couldn't put his finger on except that he liked it.

(They might live in cities and there were laws that kept Alphas from killing each other as they once did, but humans were still animals, and Alphas were the closest to animals amongst all three hierarchies. People might fall in love with first sight, but more often than not they fell in love at first _scent_.)

Did Richard mind if his friends and castmates took them to be lovers?

“I don't mind,” he found himself saying. He shrugged a little, glancing at Lee and giving him a crooked smile. “Besides, it's better than being labelled a homewrecker, right?” He glanced over to Lee nervously. “Do _you_ mind?”

Hell, he didn't even know if Lee was attracted to other Alphas or not. It just didn't seem to come up in the conversations they had with each other.

Lee was quiet, staring out of the window. Richard nearly started fidgeting, his mind running wild because it was obvious that he offended Lee, that he said something he shouldn't have. It was a familiar feeling, but the familiarity didn't make it easier for him to find the words to say. He took a deep breath.

“I'm--”

“We're here,” Lee interrupted him. Richard's eyes darted back to the road, and he realised that they nearly passed Lee's house. He stomped down on the brake, reversing the car before turning into the driveway of Lee's rental house, thoughtfully paid for by New Line Cinemas.

“I'm sorry,” he finally managed to say when he stopped the car. “I didn't mean to-” he couldn't continue, not in the nearly-oppressive silence around them. Lee was quiet, so utterly _silent_ and Richard didn't know what he was thinking. He never really knew what Lee was thinking even though it seemed that Lee could see through him with just one glance, but then again Richard had never been particularly difficult to read and he knew that. 

He took a deep breath, lifted his eyes- and found brilliant hazel eyes a little too close to his own. Richard opened his mouth, trying to say _something_ , but there was a mouth on his.

Lee kissed him.

Richard gasped, drawing Lee's breath into his own mouth, and he felt a hand close around his bicep, holding him close. He stilled almost instinctively, and Richard closed his eyes, tipped his head, and opened his mouth further.

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. But his body knew well enough, and before Richard could register the _click_ of the seatbelt being removed, he was already moving forward, shoving Lee up against the closed door of the car. He climbed over the handbreak, knee sinking into the passenger seat as both hands gripped tightly onto Lee's shirt, forcing him to not move as Richard darted his tongue into his mouth and _tasted_ him.

He was a forty-year old Alpha and an _actor_ ; there had been plenty of people he kissed. But there was no one in his entire memory who tasted like Lee, like spiced sugar that burned his tongue and soothed it at the same time. His hands pressed Lee even harder against the glass, chasing the taste, and Richard _knew_ he shouldn't do this because he was more than his biological instincts, defined by more than just being an Alpha--

Lee's hands laid flat against his shoulders and shoved him away so hard that Richard nearly banged his head against the car's hood. 

They stared at each other. Lee's lips were red and swollen from the kiss, the perfect bow made even more obvious when defined by spit. He raised a shaking hand to wipe his mouth, and when Richard looked down, he found his own in no better state.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, horrified at himself. “I'm so sorry, I should-”

He should get out of the car, but it was _his_ car and it was _Lee's_ house right outside and he had no idea what he could do. He stayed there, the sound of their combined panting filling up the car, hating himself.

Then Lee's hand took both of his own and squeezed them gently.

“I was going to ask if you actually wanted the rumours to be true,” Lee spoke so quietly that Richard had to strain to hear him. “Look at me, Rich.”

Richard lifted his head.

“We've had an exhausting day, yeah? How about I let you go home and think about this, and we'll... well, we'll see what happens?”

There was no one who understood the inexplicable, sudden nature of an Alpha's instincts than another Alpha, and he was suddenly flooded with gratitude about what Lee was giving him. It was a way out; it would allow the two of them to laugh about this if nothing came out of it so they could still be friends.

The basest parts of his mind stared at Lee's swollen lips and wanted to taste it again, more than anything, but Richard spent all of his life suppressing those instincts. So he only nodded, shifting and ducking until he slipped back to the driver's seat. He stared forward, nails digging into the leather-covered steering wheel almost hard enough to tear through it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that's a good idea.”

“I'll see you tomorrow?”

Lee was as nervous about this as he was, Richard realised. He forced his eyes away from the side of Lee's house to meet the man's eyes, and he thought he managed to give him a steady (enough) smile.

“Of course.”

Nodding, Lee opened the car door to step out. Richard's fingers itched, wanting to reach forward, to grab hold of one slender wrist and pull him back in. But he didn't, watching the door close.

Then it was yanked open again, and Lee popped his head in.

“We don't have to talk about this,” Lee said, and the words seemed to pour out of him. “Screw what the others said. If you're not comfortable about this, we don't have to talk about it. Friends, yeah?” He took a deep breath before he ducked his head down, looking up at Richard through his lashes.

“Have a good sleep, Rich.”

Before Richard could think of anything else to say, or even to wish him goodnight as well, Lee slammed the door close. He watched him walk towards his door so quickly that it seemed like Lee was running away from him, and Richard closed his eyes and dropped his head on top of his steering wheel, groaning softly to himself.

There was still spiced sugar on his tongue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II  
**

They didn't talk about it. 

Richard couldn't find the words; couldn't even manage to vocalise his feelings to himself. Lee was obviously waiting for him to start the conversation and Richard had the distinct feeling that he was disappointing the other Alpha, but he just couldn't figure out how to approach this. Any part of this.

He put it off. There was an elephant in the room whenever they talked, worsened by Graham's sly looks (and Jed's and Aidan's and Dean's andthat gave Richard answers for questions he didn't bother asking). But it was an elephant the two of them became skilled at learning how to navigate around, and somehow, despite the strange simmering tension between them, the friendship they had with each other was unchanged. 

Then Richard had to go to the Dale set, and Lee had to go to America. It wasn’t anything sudden or unexpected; Lee was scheduled to leave to film the pick-ups for _Lincoln_ long even before he landed in New Zealand. In a production as huge as _The Hobbit_ , no one’s schedule was left unplanned for. Richard might not know what exactly he was going to do on any given day, but he knew the exact locations of where he would be for the next six months and, more importantly, where _Thorin_ should be at in terms of chronology. That was the life of an actor in a nutshell: overplanned, but still somehow unexpected and exciting.

He attended Lee’s “You’re leaving for a while so let’s use that as an excuse to get shit-faced” party (lovingly christened so by Martin). He even managed to resist drinking too much so he could drive Lee to the airport in the middle of the morning to send him off. Lee was two sheets to the wind at the time of check-in at Auckland, and Richard watched his back as he weaved around people, somehow still graceful while clutching onto his luggage like it would disappear if he blinked. He had laughed at the sight, turning away and driving back home, and his house didn’t feel empty.

The last few days had been busy. Cameras were packed up, last minute instructions were given, Peter rushed around looking like a rather harassed owl, and they were all ready to leave for Dale. Now Richard had been in Dale ( _at the Dale set_ , he reminded himself, and prodded Thorin away from the forefront of his thoughts cautiously) for a couple of days, and he had to admit that it reminded him of filming Erebor. Not only because of the familiar architecture, but also because the set was more crowded than it had been in months. There were extras milling around, a rather surreal sight as they held paper or plastic cups, drinking from straws while dressed like Men from the race of Middle Earth. It looked, Richard thought wryly, like a Renaissance Faire that lost its way and found itself in New Zealand.

Richard loved his job, really he did, but if there was one thing that filming for so long had taught him (and which Lee had reminded him of recently) was that you had to learn to laugh at being paid to dress up and play pretend, or else all you’d be was an asshole.

Now he was standing in the corner, sipping his teeth and occasionally pushing Thorin away from the forefront of his head. (Richard didn’t like defining himself as being schizophrenic, because Thorin might growl a lot in his mind, he knew perfectly well the source of the voice and that it was _Not Him._ ) He looked up when he heard footsteps, and raised an eyebrow when he saw Graham walking over.

“I thought you’ve quitted smoking,” Richard remarked, clearly eyeballing the cigarette that Graham just placed between his lips.

He received laughter in response. “I bummed it off Ian,” Ian said, lips crooking upwards. “I told him that I won’t tell anyone that his newest attempt to quit is a failure if he doesn’t tell anyone.” Pausing, he cocked his head to the side before giving an overdramatic shrug, “I don’t know what I can blackmail you with to make you not talk, though.”

“I don’t know. The silence of the Grey Wizard is impressive enough,” Richard drawled.

“Wait, wait a minute,” Graham lowered the cigarette he was about to light. “Am I talking to Thorin Oakenshield or Richard Armitage right now?”

Richard tipped his head up and gave a haughty sniff; more of a caricature of Thorin than Thorin himself. “The King under the Mountain has no time to care about a mere human male’s habits with pipeweed.”

There was a moment of silence as Graham stared at him. Richard felt his neck start to flush, red creeping upwards from the scrutiny. But Graham laughed before he could even form an apology on his tongue, and he slapped Richard so hard on the back that all air escaped him and he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.

“That’s a good one, Rich,” Graham chuckled, his voice so close that his breath curled against Richard’s neck. “That’s a real good one.”

Richard grinned, turning around and punching Graham on the shoulder. His friend backed off, still laughing as he lit up his cigarette. Richard shifted over without being asked, and Graham’s smile widened as he leaned against the wall beside him, exhaling smoke with a deep, satisfied sigh.

And Richard realised suddenly that he wasn’t looking at Graham the way he used to look. That his eyes weren’t immediately drawn to Graham’s lips as they wrapped around the white stick as they used to. Graham didn’t smoke much – he kept insisting that he was quitting – but every single time he did in front of Richard, it was a minor spectacle, a secret thrill that sent guilty joy down his spine because he shouldn’t want Graham to smoke more because it was bad for him, but at the same time there was no denying how attractive the other man was when he had a cigarette in his mouth.

Or at least, he _was_ attractive. His relief slammed straight against his ribcage, and Richard swallowed a large gulp of tea to mask his sigh. It was a _damned_ good thing that he never told Graham of his infatuation, because it was so clear that what he felt was merely a crush. Like a teenager when he was a full-grown man of forty years. He shook his head, staring at the floor as he laughed to himself.

“What are you laughing about?”

… Or not really to himself. Richard blinked. “Just something I remembered from the script,” he lied easily, and that, more than anything, told him that Graham was just a friend to him now, that the embarrassing fixation he had on the other man had passed. He usually felt so nervous around people he wanted so badly to like him, and always tried so hard to put on the best front he could, so much that he started cringing and blushing whenever he thought he said something wrong. The behaviour was so anathema to what an Alpha was supposed to be that he ended up turning people off instead.

(Richard had tried for at least twenty-five years to stop doing that. It didn’t work.)

His phone started vibrating in his pocket. It was probably his agent; Richard dug it out and stared at the screen.

“Hey, Graham?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what time is it in California right now?”

Graham looked at him before he grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “No, I don’t. Why, is Lee calling?”

“Yeah,” Richard replied distractedly. “I’m pretty sure he’s supposed to be asleep. There might be something wrong.” He flashed Graham an apologetic smile. “Give me a bit?”

He barely noticed Graham’s grin widening as he was shooed off. Richard walked off slightly into the distance, draining his tea as he picked up the call.

“I think you’re supposed to be asleep,” he said, and was surprised at the near-accusing tone of his own voice.

“Shooting ended up ending really late,” Lee answered. Technology was brilliant, really, and Lee sounded like he was right beside him. Richard could hear the sleepiness in his voice, and he smiled slightly even as he grabbed a chair.

“I thought they’re supposed to be pick-ups.”

“Yeah, but Steven figured that we might as well try to finish up everything by today, so the schedule’s crammed like crazy. We _are_ actually done, though. How’s Dale?” The last couple of words were mangled by Lee’s yawn, and Richard chuckled quietly. If he hadn’t had weeks of experience trying to talk to Lee while he was obviously tired (but still determined to continue whatever discussion they were having at the time somehow), he wouldn’t be able to understand what he was saying. 

“It’s good. The set’s pretty crowded.”

“God, I remember those scenes. There were so many extras wearing Elf helmets standing around, and there was me, trying to look stern and Elf-like while sitting on top of a huge barrel that PJ is going to work CGI magic into so it becomes an elk…” He yawned again. “New Zealanders are really friendly, though. Did you talk to any of the extras this time, or is Thorin making you brood in the corner again?”

“Thorin can’t make me do anything,” Richard protested immediately. Lee’s laughter floated to him through the phone, and he knew that Lee was only teasing. There was a particular quality to Lee’s voice when he teased that Richard noticed by the second time they tried going for a movie and ended up having dinner together.

“Seriously, though, did you talk to anyone? Let me live vicariously through you because talking to Tommy Lee Jones or Daniel Day-Lewis is kind of scary, so I haven’t had any proper conversation the whole day. Nodding and smiling whenever they say something in my general direction doesn’t count.”

“I talked to Graham,” Richard said slowly. He knew why Lee called now; it was the rush that always followed acting, something that refused to let actors sleep until they managed to exorcise both character and world from their heads. “You’re lucky, you know. You caught me during break.”

“Oh no, Richard,” Lee sounded so serious that Richard started laughing immediately. “I’m so hurt that you won’t run for your phone mid-take because the exceedingly special ringtone you set for me started trilling your name.”

“I prefer my head on my neck, and even if PJ won’t kill me, I’m rather sure Carolynne would. I’m actually looking around me to make sure she’s not creeping up on me with a knife because I have my phone switched on while on set.”

“Of course you are,” Lee said, and his Southern American drawl, flattened for most of the conversation, flared back into life. “I can just see you now, sitting in your corner all hunched over with your phone pressed to your ear, your eyes darting side by side as you wait for judgment…” He chuckled. “Completely believable.”

Richard stretched out, spreading his arms out around himself as he leaned fully back against the chair. It creaked a little, but he ignored it; Lee couldn’t hear it through the phone. “It is my greatest regret to inform you that you are quite wrong,” he said in his most pompous and officious voice. “In fact, you’re so wrong I think you’re out of this planet.”

“Just about. Across half the world is the same thing, isn’t it?”

“I can see why you became an actor,” Richard said. “You are such an utter failure at science.”

Whenever Lee laughed, his voice dipped until it was deep and rumbling, and Richard’s smile widened into a grin. It wasn’t only because he made Lee laugh – though that was a large part of it – but he remembered Lee telling him that one of the hardest part about filming _Soldier’s Girl_ was relearning how to laugh like an Omega female, all soft and high-pitched and completely unlike himself.

“Speaking of acting,” Lee said, and Richard could hear the trace of laughter in his voice. “It’s kind of weird being Fernando Wood when I have Thranduil still lingering at the back of my head.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. I can’t get used to it even though there are plenty of times I have to rehearse or think about a character while preparing for another one. I think your Thorin schizophrenia is catching.”

“ _Excuse_ me, my madness is of a completely different sort. Don’t blame me for your own.” 

It had been such a long time since he could joke about his supposed ‘method acting’. Annie was the last person he found himself so comfortable with. Richard took this job because he had always wanted to play a Tolkien character – although it took him a while before he believed he was really good enough to play Thorin Oakenshield, what with his height and all – but he found good friends, _true_ friends, amongst the cast and crew as well.

Ironic as it might be that one of his best friends on the set happened to play his character’s enemy, Richard knew that he wasn’t Thorin, and so it was perfectly alright. 

“There’s something about Middle Earth. Or maybe I should blame Peter, really,” Richard laughed quietly. Lee had fallen silent, and Richard knew he was listening despite the change of subject. “Frodo said it best: the Fellowship is eternally bound by friendship and love.” So much that they destroyed every possible stereotype about relationships that could happen between Alphas, Betas, Omegas, women and men. “We’re a Company, not a Fellowship, but it’s happening again, isn’t it?”

“I’m not _quite_ part of Thorin’s Company, though,” Lee teased.

“You’re part of it,” Richard pointed out, barely being able to keep himself from scoffing. “And you know that very well.”

“Even when I’m halfway across the world right now, and Thorin hates Thranduil?”

“Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, isn’t it?”

“What!” Lee cried out, sounding so offended that Richard blinked. “Are you saying that my leaving New Zealand is a _ploy_ to make you miss me?”

“Well—”

Lee interrupted him before he could even get his thoughts into order. “Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you miss me?”

Even though Richard knew it was a joke, the kind of easy teasing between friends, he cough quietly. “Maybe I do,” he said, trying to sound light-hearted. Despite his easy tone, he was actually speaking the truth. The conversation was starting to become a little surreal, and more than slightly enlightening. He coughed again.

“Why, what are you going to do about it?”

“See, if you said ‘yes’, I would’ve told you that I’m coming back tomorrow. But since you didn’t…”

“Are you coming back tomorrow?” Richard cut in, and he was almost surprised at his own rudeness. “I’m sorry, I forgot your schedule.” Or rather, Richard didn’t realise that he was so invested in Lee’s schedule until now.

“Well, I’m probably _reaching_ the day after given the time difference, but my flight is tomorrow, yeah. I pushed it forward because _Lincoln_ finished earlier,” Lee said, sounding oddly cautious for some reason.

“That sounds great!” Richard didn’t even have to feign the enthusiasm in his voice. “Well,” he corrected himself, “Not about the flight, but you coming back soon.”

“Why, are you happy that I’m coming back because no one else will listen to you?”

Richard opened his mouth, half-way through replying when he caught one of the assistants waving at him out of the corner of his eyes. Through strange filming sign language, he figured out that he was wanted on the set – the cameras were ready, it seemed.

“I’m sure there are plenty of people willing to listen to _you_ ,” he told Lee. “But look, I’ve got to go because they’re calling me over. Call me when you reach- actually, will you be coming over to the Dale set?”

“Probably,” Lee replied, yawning again. “It’s no fun being in Wellington all by myself, and there’s the Arkenstone scene I have over there with Martin and Luke, I think.”

“I’ll see you then,” Richard said, and he thought his own words sounded a promise. “Go to bed.”

“It’s afternoon in New Zealand, but goodnight, Richard.” Richard could hear the rustling of bedsheets, and Lee sounded like he was shoving his face into a pillow. He laughed quietly; it was so easy for him to imagine the scene – Lee had spent plenty of nights on his couch when he was too tired to drive back to his own place, and he always sounded like that. 

“Sleep well and have a good flight.”

The assistant was looking rather frantic by now. Richard was rather well-versed in filming sign language, but he couldn’t tell what was it that he was being told. Sighing to himself, he hung up the phone, Lee’s last incoherent murmur lodging itself in his mind as he left his comfortable little corner and let the crowd of the Dale set swallow him up.

Work called, and Richard didn’t mind it at all because he loved his job, but somehow he didn’t want to let go of his phone.

***

Richard liked Ian. Intellectually and emotionally, he _liked_ the older man and admired him. Ian was everything he ever wanted to be as an actor, and the fact that he preferred other Alphas didn’t stop him from being becoming Gandalf with such ease. 

He had to continuously remind himself of this, because Ian was an Alpha. Not only that, but Ian was the strongest and most domineering Alpha Richard had ever known, able to exert pressure and dominance with a sweet smile, an outstretched hand, and the barest waft of scent. Whenever Richard was near him he always had to try his best to act normally despite the fear and hatred that shot through him, the niggling part of himself called for him to fight Ian or go down on his knees. At the same time.

Richard had a _lot_ of practice stifling his instincts, and he learned to deal with such things after a while (acting was overpopulated with Alphas, really, and there were plenty of theatre actors who were older, more confident Alphas like Ian) so it didn’t interfere with Thorin’s relationship with Gandalf. But Ian’s very presence always made him wish he had been born Beta instead, because at least Betas didn’t have to renegotiate with themselves every single time they wanted to talk to someone who could dominate them with but a touch.

(Alright, that was unfair; Betas had their own problems as well. Like Martin, who must had had received so many jokes about overcompensating for something given his grumpy personality. The man would make a much better Alpha than Richard.

The grass was always greener on the other side. )

So when Ian sat down next to him, posture perfectly casual with his elbows on his knees and legs spread, Richard had to restrain himself from getting off the chair and baring his throat.

“How are you doing, my dear boy?”

“I’m fine,” Richard said automatically.

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s been a long day.”

Ian was also really good at small talk. But Richard wasn’t, no matter how hard he tried, and he only rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at his feet. “Is there anything the matter?”

“Well, that’s up to you to tell me, isn’t it?” Ian smiled gently. “I was only curious because you looked as if you have something heavy on your mind.”

Did he look like that? Richard wanted to deny it, to say that there was nothing that bothered him, but he knew that Ian was sharp in his observations and there was a really good chance that he might have seen something about Richard that Richard hadn’t even recognised about himself. He leaned back slightly in his chair, tipping his head to look up at the sky. At the edge of his vision he could see how the constructed Dale set blended in with the setting sun, and Richard smiled a little because it was the perfect metaphor for acting – the blending of real and fantasy.

He shook his head to dislodge the thoughts. When he looked at Ian again, he was surprised at what came out of his mouth.

“Has Lee ever told you of his preferences?”

“My dear boy, why don’t you stop beating around the bush and say what you actually mean?”

Damn Ian and his too-sharp eyes, Richard thought wryly. It was impossible to hide anything from him, especially since Ian didn’t seem to be able to meet a piece of gossip he didn’t like. He rubbed at his lips, trying his best not to blush before he glanced at Ian for the briefest of moments.

“Do you think Lee is attracted to Alphas?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Ian chuckled, and his hand was warm on Richard’s shoulder. “Who knows about who or what someone else might be attracted to? Besides, there’s nothing more boring than walking into a situation knowing everything, Richard. Where will you find the excitement?”

Richard blinked. He cocked his head to the side, taking in Ian’s enigmatic smile, running his words over in his mind, and sighed. “I was asking _Ian_ a question, not _Gandalf_.”

“I know that, and I answered you, if only in a way that is rather worthy of the Grey Wizard,” Ian replied, and he was smiling a little too wide to seem at all remorseful. “Ask _Lee_ , Richard. No, better yet…”

Tipping his head to the side, Richard watched as Ian stood from his chair, walking over until he was squatting in front of him, his smile a small mischievous thing.

“I think Lee will surprise you greatly, my dear boy, but you really should stop thinking about that question. There are better, more important ones to be asked.”

“Like what?” Richard couldn’t help the words tumbling from his mouth.

“Like, oh, hmm… Should you only look at those of your preferred hierarchy for someone you might want?”

“Of course not,” Richard said. He was confused beyond measure, his original question long faded away as his mind scrambled to try to figure out what Ian was getting at. “But I…”

Ian pressed a gentle finger on his lips. Richard shut up immediately.

“You’re little like how an Alpha should be – and no, I don’t believe I find any problem with that – but have you ever thought that there are others who refuse to allow their hierarchy to determine their personalities?” He laughed quiet, swinging back. With his hands on Richard’s knees, Ian pushed himself back and stood up, wincing just slightly as his knees popped.

“Ah, my bones are not as they used to be, and I believe I have rather overdelivered in the amount of Gandalf I have brought to people today,” Ian winked. He waved his fingers at Richard. “Have a good rest of the day, Richard. Please don’t think I am being cryptic, or be angry at me. I will be terribly upset, because I _did_ answer your question.”

Richard stared at him as he walked away and wished, in the wry part of his mind that was still somehow coherent, that Ian knew how to speak English instead of his own version of Crypticese, far more difficult to learn than even Quenya and Khuzdul. It was obvious that the older Alpha knew _something_ was going on; that he had knowledge of secrets that Richard was obviously not privy to. It was also extremely obvious that at least some of it had to do with Lee.

Just because Richard had solved three rows didn’t mean that he finished the crossword puzzle. He sighed to himself, rubbing a hand over his face. It was honestly a foolish question to ask, really; foolish and not a little bit cowardly, because Richard was cursed with a little bit too much self-awareness and knew perfectly well that he only asked Ian because the idea of asking _Lee_ was daunting.

Not to mention that he had no bloody idea whatsoever why he ever _wanted_ to know.

Richard sighed. He collapsed back on his chair, staring up at the swiftly darkening sky. When did figuring out the level of grumpiness and anger Thorin would be at on any given part of the shoot become the easiest part of the day?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh God we're finally getting somewhere with these guys.

**Part III**

The question was still bothering him the next day. They were given half a day off because of unexpected rain. Most of the cast were cheering, making plans to go to the nearest town and enjoy their time in New Zealand despite the deluge that was pouring from the skies, but Richard begged off because Thorin was a little difficult to shake off right now.

Instead he took his rental car and drove back to the cosy little inn he was set up in while on the Dale set. The rain was blocking almost all of his vision, but there was no mistaking the tall figure getting out of the taxi right in front of him. Richard’s eyes widened when he realised that Lee had no umbrella, and he turned around, stopping right beside him.

(He really hoped that it was Lee and not some other tall, skinny guy with black hair. There couldn’t be more than one of those in this neck of the woods.)

“Lee!” Richard reached over and yanked open the passenger door. The sound of rain splattering against the tarred road nearly drowned out his voice. “Lee! C’mon in, I’ve got an umbrella in my car!”

Lee looked at him, his eyes bright as a deer in the grey light. His lips parted and he said Richard’s name, but the wind whipped away his voice. Richard beckoned him with a hand, inviting him in, feeling somewhat like an overly large monkey in his flailing.

When the passenger door slammed close and Lee was sitting in the car hugging his bag to himself, he realised how soaked the other Alpha was.

“Christ, you look like you took a dip in the lake,” Richard said. He leaned forward and pulled his jacket off, throwing it over. “It’s not much, but it’s warm.”

“Thanks,” Lee murmured. He grabbed the jacket and held it close, and Richard realised that something was wrong – Lee was being quiet, the kind of quiet that had nothing to do with comfortable silence. Richard didn’t know how to describe it, but it just seemed _wrong_.

“I’m driving into the parking lot. It’ll just be a bit.” He paused, looking over even as he stepped on the accelerator. “I didn’t realise you’re staying in the inn.”

There was an indistinct sound from Lee. His cheekbones were so sharp in the dim light of the car, drawing shadows on his face, making him seem gaunt.

He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t worried, but Richard knew better than to push the issue. Instead he looked straight in front of him, biting his lip as he navigated into the inn’s parking lot through the pouring rain, sliding the car into the space before he lifted his foot from the accelerator. Richard left the engine on, letting heat blast gently from the vents even as he reached over, hesitatingly placing his hand on top of Lee’s.

“Hey,” he didn’t know why he was whispering. “What’s wrong?”

The touch seemed to jerk Lee out of some kind of stupor. He shook hard, pulling Richard’s jacket around himself and clutching his bag hard to his chest. “I feel like a fucking idiot,” Lee said, and his voice was so soft Richard could hardly hear him. “I don’t remember where Peter set me up at and I didn’t even check at the airport.” He took a shuddering breath, “The only address I remember is this one and that’s the one I gave the driver, but then I remembered that you are all probably still filming and you won’t be here, then it started raining…”

He rubbed his eyes. “I am so tired. Did I ever tell you that I hate flying?” Lee’s shaky little smile was almost painful to see. “Not the actually being in air bit, because that’s wonderful no matter how many times I go through it, but the part when time changes and I lose all sense of it and don’t even know if it’s morning or night or if it matters. I don’t even know what time it is now.” He stared down at his knees, Richard’s jacket pulled over his mouth.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing else on for the rest of the day.” Cautiously, so carefully that Richard suddenly had an image of Lee being made out of the thinnest of blown glass, he crossed over the handbrake and slowly drew Lee into his arms. His thighs spread around Lee’s as he tried to fit himself in the single passenger’s seat. “Pete cancelled filming because of the rain. It’s alright.”

Lee’s head dropped down onto his shoulder and Richard could feel nails digging in. Richard had almost forgotten how strong Lee was when Lee fitted so well into his arms, but that was a reminder, and he breathed out a long breath as his hand cupped Lee’s neck.

“We should get inside,” he murmured quietly. “Get you dry and to bed.”

“I don’t actually have a room here,” Lee said, his voice muffled by Richard’s shirt.

“You can sleep in mine,” Richard chuckled. He couldn’t help but sound just a little bit nervous. “I promise I won’t try to molest you in your sleep.”

Lee’s shoulders shook, and Richard panicked for a second or two before he realised that Lee was holding back laughter, not tears, and he grinned hard before he rested his head in Lee’s hair. Almost involuntarily, he took a long, deep breath in.

There was something so visceral about the sense of smell that Richard didn’t know any language that could describe scent adequately. All he could say was that Lee smelled different, different in a way that reached deep down into his gut and _tugged_ at him, dragging something out of him that he couldn’t define. He felt his lips drawling back as he bared his teeth, and his hand on the back of Lee’s neck tightening just so slightly. At that moment, he wanted more than anything else than to tip Lee’s neck back, to bare that long throat to him, and to taste the pulse that was surely thrumming beneath the skin.

He felt Lee’s hand grabbing onto the back of his shirt and Richard almost pushed back, an apology on the tip of his tongue. But Lee didn’t pull him away; he dragged Richard down until Richard was sitting on his knees, and Lee made a soft little sound – too heavy to be an exhale, too light to be a sigh – before he tilted his head and tucked it into Richard’s neck.

Richard breathed. He felt his heart calming down, his teeth retreating back where they belonged. Slowly, he drew the other arm around Lee’s shoulders, his hand dropping down to barely brush the top of Lee’s back. It was comfortable, like this.

They stayed there for a while.

“I’m getting you all soaked,” Lee slurred out. He made a burbling sound, as if he was too tired to laugh. “And I’m falling asleep.”

Richard looked out of the window. It would be too convenient if the rain was stopping right now, he thought, and he laughed at the thought because it was pouring just as hard as it was five minutes ago, if not even harder.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmured.

There was another soft sound, but it was far less distressed than before. Richard couldn’t help but smile even as he tucked his own jacket more securely around Lee’s shoulder. Grabbing the small umbrella from the dashboard, he climbed back into the driver’s seat before he stepped outside and took the bigger one from the trunk.

Lee’s eyes were open by the time he yanked over the passenger seat door, and Richard couldn’t resist the impulse to bow a little, sweeping his hand out.

“I don’t have another jacket to spread on the ground so your feet don’t get dirty, your highness, but I hope the umbrella will do.”

Richard felt a hand dragging him close, and Lee draped his arm over Richard’s shoulders. “My gallant King under the Mountain,” Lee’s voice was exhaustion-roughened and so close to Richard’s ear that he couldn’t help but shiver. “Now get me inside before I fall asleep on you.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Richard said immediately as he slammed the passenger door close. They left Lee’s bag inside; he could come and get it later. “You’re really far too big for me to carry in.”

Lee snorted, “That’s just making excuses.” His eyes finally opened fully, and he grinned at Richard. “I’m sure that if you try hard enough, you’ll succeed at it.”

A sudden image came into Richard’s head of Thorin Oakenshield, all five foot two of them, huffing and puffing and red-faced while he tried to lift the Elvenking who was more than a foot taller than he was. His hand nearly slipped on the handle of the umbrella as he threw his head back and laughed, but luckily they were inside the inn and Richard folded it close.

There was a finger poking his side. “Share,” Lee demanded.

“Just imagining how undignified Thorin will look if he tries to carry Thranduil,” Richard shook his head, still laughing even as he stumbled together up the inn’s steps to his suite. “Not very kingly at all.”

Lee straightened up as much as he could while still leaning on Richard. “We are unimpressed,” he said in Thranduil’s accent.

Richard laughed at how the usual crisp consonants were slurred, and he looked at Lee, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes. “You need to sleep,” he stated.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Lee drawled. He pushed away from Richard to practically fall against the wall so Richard could open the door to his suite. “God, I can sleep here in the hallway.”

Looking at him, Richard could believe it. He grabbed Lee’s arm, dragging him inside and nudging him past the sitting room of the suite towards the bedroom. “There. We’re here.”

Lee stumbled forward and flopped himself over on the bed. Long arms flailed around like he was trying to swim amongst the sheets, and he buried his face in Richard’s jacket. He made a low, moaning sound that could be either ‘bed’ or ‘crickets’ for all that Richard could hear him.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia if you sleep while you’re still wet,” Richard pointed out. He reached out and tugged at Lee’s collar, and he couldn’t resist stroking the pads of his fingers even the soft skin just beneath the hairline. “Go take a shower. I’ll lend you my clothes to sleep in.”

Groaning again, Lee pushed himself off of the bed, tripping sideways. He caught the doorframe of the bathroom before he turned back. There were strands of black hair plastered to his forehead, and Richard caught his breath at the shy look that Lee turned to him.

“Thanks,” Lee said quietly.

It wasn’t for the clothes, Richard knew that well enough. He gave Lee a small smile before he turned away, trying to not think about the offer that was still between them, the white elephant that seemed to exist and not exist at the same time. But no, this was the worst time to think about such things when Lee was obviously tired. He strode determinedly over to his closet and grabbed the nearest t-shirt and the smallest pair of pants – waist-wise – he could find.

“The clothes are outside the door,” he shouted through the sound of the shower. Lee shouting something back, the words battered into indistinguishable pieces by noise, and Richard walked towards the window and stared out towards nothing, trying not to think.

When the door opened, he couldn’t help but turn around. He nearly stumbled forward at the sight – his t-shirt hung loosely on Lee’s shoulders, the hem of the sleeves hanging down. It was also a little too short, and Richard could almost see the hint of skin right above where his pants hung loosely on Lee’s hips despite the tied laces.

 _He’s wearing my clothes_ , Richard thought immediately. It was nonsensical, completely so, but his nostrils flared at the thought that Lee was wearing _his scent_ at that very moment. That he was wearing something of Richard’s, draped all over by Richard’s scent, and instinctively he wanted to reach out, to claim.

Then Lee walked over and dropped his jacket on his head. Richard sputtered, his thoughts grinding to a halt as he flailed around momentarily before he pulled the heavy cloth away from his eyes.

“You’re spacing out,” Lee said, yawning mid-word. He grabbed Richard’s wrist, pulling slightly at him. “I think you need sleep.”

Richard stood up mutely and followed him to the bed. It was, he thought, a better idea to admit that he was tired than to say that he was busy staring at Lee and mapping out all the places where his marks would look beautiful on the pale skin.

“It’s my turn for a shower,” he managed to say, barely resisting the urge to stroke his hand through Lee’s hair.

Lee nodded at him before he dropped down onto the bed. Richard watched, amused, as he wriggled like a caterpillar up to the headboard to grab a pillow, shoving it under his head. The movement dragged Richard’s pants further down his hips, and Richard nearly flung himself into the shower so he wouldn’t reach out to touch.

When he came out of the shower (in a towel, because he was an idiot and forgot to grab clothes for himself), Lee was already asleep. Richard’s eyes didn’t leave him as he dressed, not even caring that his shirt was inside out and the wrong way around. There was a teasing slice of skin exposed by the collar of Richard’s shirt, pale and peppered lightly with freckles. Dragging his gaze upwards, he nearly tripped over himself as he tried to tiptoe over to the bed.

Richard’s fingers hovered over the curve of Lee’s cheeks, over his jaw where the beginnings of stubble were forming. He took a deep, fortifying breath, and let himself touch the skin, just so slightly, before he staggered backwards and strode towards the window. He closed his eyes, placing his forehead against the cool glass.

He knew he had the answer to Lee’s offer. It was obvious in everything he did, every time his eyes were drawn involuntarily towards Lee. It was obvious when he wanted more than anything else to listen to the beat of Lee’s heart, to allow it to engrave itself in his mind; to measure the heat of Lee’s breath and let it ink itself across the insides of his lungs.

The thing was, Richard didn’t know if he was brave enough to bring up the subject.

***

There was a whole list of culprits they could blame for this: Aidan and Dean; Orlando; Jed; _Ian_ , the bastard; or even Graham. Christ. Richard shook the doorknob of the prop room door a little bit more, but it remained stuck.

“You can try ripping it out,” Lee said from behind him, sounding amused.

“I’d rather not have the entire prop department on my arse,” Richard shot back. He shook the doorknob again, but he knew that it would hold strong; the door and its hinges themselves as well. Prop rooms and stores tended to be made to withstand the strength of a careless Alpha, because plenty of stagehands and helping crew were Alphas. It was one of the few careers in which their near-animalistic strength was helpful instead of hindering.

He sighed after a few moments, stepping back and looking towards Lee. The other Alpha had unfolded two of the chairs and was sitting on one, his legs parted with his elbows on his knees as he gave Richard an amused look.

“You can try helping,” Richard pointed out, almost grumbling. He rubbed at his mouth, knowing that those words were not entirely his own – there was still a little bit too much of Thorin’s loathing of Thranduil in his tone.

It was morning and neither of them had gone to the makeup chair yet. Orlando came to them and told Lee that someone had left his crown in the prop room, and if he didn’t mind, maybe he should get it before Peter started making displeased sounds. Richard offered to go with him, and he should have suspected something then from the grin Orlando gave them right before he bounded away.

But then again, hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Richard sighed again as he moved over to the chair, dropping down onto it. The metal groaned slightly beneath his weight, and he shifted to make himself more comfortable. Still too often he felt that the world was simply not made for Alphas, and it really was just his luck that the door that was keeping him from his work was.

“Pete is going to kill us,” Richard muttered, dropping his head onto his hands.

Lee didn’t say a word. Richard peeked at him through his fingers, and _that_ look was on Lee’s face again. The same look he had for the past two or three days, when Lee’s fist was rubbing against his sternum and his expression was turned inwards, as if there was a mystery about his own body that he was trying to solve. Richard had asked him if there was anything wrong, and if he needed a medic, but Lee always smiled and gave him a distracted answer.

Richard knew what jetlag could do to a person, and he always left Lee alone. If there was anything Lee wanted to tell him, Richard knew that he would hear it sooner or later.

He took a deep breath, almost dropping back to the chair. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, but he lost the words immediately when he noticed the scent in the air.

There was no Alpha in the world who couldn't immediately recognise the almost sickly sweet scent of an Omega in heat. Involuntarily, Richard could feel his nostrils flaring, and he dragged a long breath into his lungs. It was a subtle scent: the Omega was only approaching heat, but he could tell instinctively that it was going to be a strong one, with the kind of strength that prompted tales of terror about Omegas being attacked on the streets or in the middle of forests by rampaging Alphas who couldn’t control themselves.

Richard’s fingers were clenching into fists. Lee always kept such strong control over himself – he heard the stories about his first meeting with Elijah, when Lee had taken Elijah’s hand and shook it without even the slightest twitch in his expression when even Ian had cupped the young man’s neck and leaned in towards him – and he needed all the help he could get.

Lee was still sitting on the chair. His eyes were staring forward, fist clenched around his own shirt, and Richard could see that his pupils were blown black and wide, nearly swallowing up his hazel irises.

Two seconds ago, Richard was idly wondering which Omega amongst the crew was going into heat so near the prop room. Now his mouth fell open, but no sound escaped his throat.

He watched, as if in slow motion, as Lee drew up his legs, pressing his knees to his chest. He watched as Lee’s hand reached down to the chair’s side, his fingers opening, closing, opening, clawing at the flimsy metal. Long fingers; such long, elegant fingers, and Richard was moving before he knew it, reaching out and stopping Lee from falling off of the chair a bare second before Lee moved.

“I fucked up the timing,” Lee was saying, over and over, the horror in his voice obvious. “I fucked up, I fucked up, shit,” he was breathing so fast that Richard could almost hear the hummingbird-quick beat of his heart from here. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry—”

The first time Richard was close to an Omega in heat, he was eighteen, tall and gangly and still not used to his own strength. All he wanted to do was to help, but when he closed his hand around his classmate’s wrist, all he heard was a harsh cry of pain. Later, Richard found bruises in the same shape of his fingers on the Omega’s wrist. They were breakable, so _vulnerable_ especially during their heats, and Richard trembled now, trying to not move. If he held on tighter to Lee, he thought hysterically to himself, he was going to break every single bone in his friend’s body.

Lee closed his eyes. His eyelashes were long enough to brush the tops of his cheekbones. He turned away, and Richard could barely react when he felt Lee’s hands on his chest.

When Lee pushed him away, stumbling up to stand on his lanky legs like a newborn deer, Richard could only stare at him, flat on his arse on the floor. Lee gasped, a small little sound, and he fell forward, tripped over himself, his hands nearly-clawing at the still-locked door.

There was a slowly-growing wet patch at the back of Lee’s track pants. Richard could smell it, the scent digging straight into his bones, and he clutched at a chair. There was a squealing sound of metal protesting; when Richard yanked his hand back, the chair collapsed, folding in itself because one of its legs were squeezed tight, metal bearing signs of Richard’s fingers,, and its balance was entirely ruined.

 _Jesus_.

“Lee,” Richard rasped. His eyes were fixed onto the back of Lee’s pants. He wanted to touch; to crawl forward and press his tongue against the wetness, to taste Lee until Lee was keening. Until Lee fell onto his knees and spread his legs and let Richard fuck him until he screamed; until the whole Dale set could hear him and know that he was being claimed by Richard and only Richard.

There was no way an unbonded, unmarried Alpha could resist the scent of an Omega in heat, but. But Lee was a _friend_ , and Richard was a decent person.

 _Not an animal, not an animal_ , Richard chanted that line in his head, reminding himself over and over again. He tried to get his brain back into order. Never in his life had he found it so difficult to control himself.

Lee’s breath hitched. It was the smallest of sounds, but Richard heard it loud as thunder. He licked his lips as Lee turned back, looking at him with red, bitten lips and dark eyes, his pale cheeks flushed and—

Richard didn’t even realised he had moved until he was leaping forward, moving from his knees into the air without nothing in between. The prop room door groaned as he slammed Lee against the wood, and he barely had the willpower to stop himself from grabbing Lee by the hips, lifting him up, and pushing himself inside that wet, clenching hole that was just waiting for him. He could almost see it through Lee’s clothes.

He jerked his hands away from Lee’s shoulders, slamming them palm-first against the door. The wood creaked in protest, but he didn’t hear it. His eyes are focused on Lee and Lee alone. They stared at each other with only their breaths touching, and Richard realised that he was gathering wood splinters underneath his fingernails.

Lee’s lips were moving. Richard jerked himself away, rubbing at his own mouth.

“Say that again,” he said, and was unsurprised at how deep and rough his voice was.

“Get me out of here,” Lee said. He looked at Richard, his lips pressed into a line. He was shaking all over, his breaths coming in harsh (wet) pants, but his eyes were steady on Richard’s. If – _if_ – he was an Alpha looking at Richard while he was like this, Richard would’ve been hard-pressed not to snap his neck. It was a challenge in the code all Alphas learned how to speak by the time they reached their teens.

Lee’s show of defiance didn’t kill the desire that was near volcano-heat in his stomach; instead, it only increased it. But at the same time, Richard found himself finally finding enough control to push away his instincts.

This was his friend. This was a _friend_ whom he thought had been an Alpha for the whole time Richard had known him. He took a long, shaky breath. It shouldn’t change anything, he told himself. It shouldn’t change their friendship.

(It did. In more ways than he could count; in more ways he could even find the coherence to think of right now.)

He nodded, reaching out a hand, but he changed his mind at the last minute and jerked his head instead. Lee looked at him before he nodded, still keeping Richard’s stare before as he stepped to the side.

And Richard grabbed the doorknob and clenched tight. It terrified him more than anything when metal crumbled beneath his grasp, but what terrified him more was the way his nostrils flared involuntarily with every breath he took; the way his mind wouldn’t stop playing him the myriad of surfaces where he could fuck Lee on, right in this room.

This was the lesser of two evils, he told himself.

Richard closed his eyes and yanked the doorknob straight out of the wood. The sounds grated on him – a sharp screech, metal scraping against metal – and Richard’s hand trembled before he dropped the ruined lump on the ground. Reaching back, he felt Lee’s hand wrap around his wrist (safer that way), and he hissed out a breath before he kicked the door outwards.

There was someone standing outside. It took him a few moments to realise that it was Adam, the only Omega in the entire cast of Dwarves ( _not the entire cast, no_ ). Adam’s eyes darted between Richard to Lee then back again.

“There’s been an emergency,” Lee said, and in the part of Richard’s mind that was still coherent, he admired how level the other man sounded. He could smell how wet Lee was – even Adam could – but he sounded perfectly professional. “Please apologise to Pete for us.”

Richard made a sound. That was the only description he had for what came out of his throat – a _sound_ , deep in the bottom of his chest, like a tiger circling around its downed prey when he saw hyenas gathering around. He turned towards to Lee, and he could see how much Lee was shaking. And he spun on his heel, his knees getting ready to bend—

He couldn’t lift Lee up. He simply couldn’t. Richard had just ripped a doorknob out of good, strong wood and scattered nails all over the floor. The doorknob was surely made of heavy industrial-strength steel. And he couldn’t lift Lee up because Lee was _too heavy_. He couldn’t because Lee was planting his feet solidly on the ground and he _refused_ to move.

“I’m walking,” Lee said. His eyes blazed above reddened cheeks, fixed upon Richard’s.

Something inside Richard _clicked_. They stared at each other, challenge and arousal mixing together inexplicable ways. Seconds passed, countable only by Richard’s thrumming heartbeat. Then Lee nodded, slinging his arm around the Alpha’s shoulders, leaning in just enough to take weight off his own feet. His breath was wet on the skin of Richard’s neck.

The parking lot wasn’t far. Richard kept his eyes forward and breathed through his teeth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee is exposed. Richard has to deal. They both have to deal.

**Part IV**

After the third hour, Richard stopped counting minutes and tried to count hours.

He had left the bedroom of the inn’s suite with the door closing behind him the moment Lee got inside. He heard the sound of the lock falling in. He stayed outside the room then, his head against the wooden door, scraping paint off as his ears made him listen to the sounds Lee made. Lee was keening, soft gasps and pleas escaping into the air, and Richard could smell the thick scent of his heat even through the wooden door. The windows of the room couldn’t be opened, but he stayed in that exact position unmoving for the first hour, barely noticing the time passing because he was so fixated on Lee, all of his concentration fixed on not opening the door and rushing inside.

Lee told him in the car, his voice barely steady, that it had been years since he had a heat. _Years_ , and now heat slammed into him with all the times it had been denied in revenge. Richard barely heard the words at the time, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. There would be handprints sunk into the steering wheel of the rental, Richard knew. He barely managed to lead Lee up to his suite, and he remembered his hands shaking, fumbling with the keys.

(He dropped them. There was a tense moment when Lee looked at them, then at him, and it nearly killed Richard the moment when his mind provided him with an image of Lee bent over to pick them up, and he wanted Lee to, his body thrumming with anticipation. It would be easy, so very easy.

Then Lee had stepped back and Richard found his mind again somehow. He picked up the keys himself.)

The scent had permeated into everything, making Richard’s nostrils flare with each shaky breath he took. The entire suite was filled with it. Richard knew he should leave; should go back to work. But every single time he tried to convince his body to move, it simply wouldn’t.

It refused to. His body knew his place was here, right here outside the room Lee was locked in. He tried to convince himself that he was here to protect Lee from anyone else who tried to barge in – there were plenty of good, decent Alphas who did that for Omegas who were their friends or relatives – but the excuse rang hollow in his own mind. It couldn’t hold, not with the scorching heat he felt, burning through every single nerve until he felt as if he could combust at any moment.

His nails scraped more paint off the door, avoiding the doorknob with sheer will.

During the second hour, Richard found his legs buckling until he was sitting outside the door. He was hard and his cock ached from it, straining through his jeans and spreading a wet patch in the front. He refused to look down for that hour. Whenever he did he would remember the sight of Lee’s pants soaked, and his hand would tremble and reach for the door.

Plaster flaked off the wall beside the door. Richard punched it so often that he was half-surprised it hadn’t caved in.

(One of the owners of the inn was an Alpha, Richard remembered. Maybe that was why.)

On the fourth hour, he heard it. Lee’s quiet, desperate little whisper.

“ _Richard. Richard, Richard, God, Richard, please. Please, please, please._ ”

Deep as anything, rumbling from the bottom of Lee’s chest, digging straight into Richard’s. There’s nothing like it, nothing Richard had ever heard, and he gasped soundlessly, his eyes squeezing shut. _Want, want, want_ , beat a drumbeat in his head, and he thought it would be so easy, so terribly easy to just open the door and rush in, to pin Lee down and fuck him until he was screaming Richard’s name. Until every word that came out of his mouth belonged to Richard; until he could breathe that voice into his lungs.

He needed to so badly.

But Richard shoved his shirt into his mouth, stifling his growl. He shoved his legs outwards, flipping himself around. The back of his head slammed hard against the wooden door, but he felt no pain as he cried out, his voice muffled by cloth. Heels dug into the carpeted floors, and Richard reached down. He didn’t realise that he had snapped his belt buckle into two and there were buttons lying all around him until he felt the heat of his own cock against his hand. Richard dragged in a breath. His hand clawed on the floor.

Inside the room, Lee’s voice broke.

“ _Richard, please, please, oh my God, need you, need your cock, need you, need you, please,_ ” Lee’s voice broke off into a sob, and Richard heard him gasp.

He could see it in his mind’s eyes: the curve of Lee’s long body as he arched off of the bed, his toes curling on the sheets, his fingers deep inside himself. But it was not enough, because he needed Richard’s cock, needed Richard to fuck him and knot him and _breed_ him. Until Lee conceived and carried Richard’s children and God, _God_ , the thought should not burrow so deep inside him and make him _need_ like this.

He practically threw himself off of the floor, fingers stroking his cock as quickly as he could. Lee’s scent surrounded him and Richard knew he wouldn’t be able to come like this, not like this, not when he wasn’t buried inside Lee. But he had to try, nonetheless, because he couldn’t do anything else. He knew that, chained that knowledge down in his mind and made himself stay on the ground.

It was wrong; it was _wrong_. No one should take what an Omega said during their heat seriously. Heat was something Richard had never been through, but he knew well enough what _rut_ was like; what it was like to smell an Omega and have his body screaming to bury himself in that body, no matter who it might be. Nothing an Omega said during their heat meant real consent; it was one of the most important lessons for any Alpha who claimed to be human in any way. 

Richard choked back a sob as he heard Lee start to cry inside the room. Lee was trying to muffle it in a pillow, but Richard could hear it nonetheless. He ripped open his shirt and shoved as much as he could of it into his mouth, stifling his own sounds as he fought himself.

It was physically painful to stay here, outside this door. The doorknob was just _there_. Richard had no contingency plans, no experience on how to deal with this. It was so much simpler when it was just biology, just instinct, because he could use fear – an Omega’s fear, his own fear – to stop himself. But Lee was different. He was different, deadly to Richard’s self-control even as he fed it.

He never wanted an Omega- never wanted _anyone_ so damned badly as he wanted Lee right now.

***

Richard woke up from a foot in his stomach.

He gasped, flipping over to his back as his hand jerked away from himself to grab onto the closest thing in reach – the carpet. Immediately he winced, the stickiness of dried come on his own skin nearly pulling out the hairs on his chest as he moved.

It took a few moments for his memory to return to him. Richard blinked open his eyes, staring upwards, and Lee looked down to him, one eyebrow raised. Without meaning to, Richard started to laugh. He sounded more than a little hysterical.

“Is it over?” he asked when he could find his voice again. He felt almost dizzy as he pushed himself off of the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. He shoved his hands into his pants and had to catch them before they fell off of him entirely. Right, no buttons, no belt.

He inhaled shakily. The air was almost clear.

“No,” Lee answered, and Richard turned to look at him, eyes wide at the harsh rasp that had replaced Lee’s usually sweeter voice. But then again, that was only expected, what with—he stopped thinking about it.

“Heats have pauses built in them. I’m just having one right now so I can get something to eat.” He rubbed at his own eyes, and Richard realised that Lee was wearing _his_ clothes again. He swallowed and tried not to think about it as Lee continued. “It’ll come back in a bit.”

“I’ll get you something from downstairs,” Richard said, shifting slightly in the silence that settled so uncomfortably around them. “I don’t think it will be much. Soup and sandwiches, at the most. Will that be alright?”

“Anything will do,” Lee whispered shakily. He looked up at Richard through his lashes. “Just… don’t take so long, yeah? I don’t know how long this pause lasts.”

They shouldn’t touch. Even if Lee wasn’t emitting pheromones right at this moment, it was dangerous. But Richard found his hand reaching forward anyway; felt himself tangle his fingers with Lee’s. He stepped forward, lifting Lee’s wrist and pressing a soft kiss on the back of Lee’s hand.

Richard had lived all of his life on a different set of instincts than the one dictated by biology. His parents had told him that he was a passionate boy ruled too much by his heart and not his head. He dived into the unknown, went into places inside his own head where no one else dared to tread. There was always an element of danger to doing what he did, whether it was his acting technique or how he lived his life.

But Richard had gotten a little bit addicted to that danger. And, he thought, he might have gotten just a little bit addicted to Lee as well.

He took a shaky breath, lifting his head to look into changeable eyes.

Lee was staring at him, silent. Seconds past, but he didn’t move or spoke. He looked as if he was frozen, his wrist limp in Richard’s hand. Richard gave him an uncertain smile before he stepped back and fled the suite.

*

The couple downstairs knew what was happening, and they gave him a couple of sandwiches and juice in glasses. Richard knew he must’ve been a sight, what with his shirt left with no buttons, his pants barely held up by its miraculously still-functioning zipper, and his rapidly-washed hands still smelling of come. But he was too distracted to care.

Now he was leaning against the door, trying to balance the tray on one hand as he dug into his pocket for the key.

Then the door opened and Richard nearly fell on his face. But Lee steadied him by the shoulder, lifting the tray off of his hands, and Richard felt a little silly as he followed Lee back inside.

(What Lee just did should mean nothing – they were friends, and he knew Lee was perfectly capable of doing anything that Richard could. But now he couldn’t forget that Lee was an Omega, and there were some things that Omegas shouldn’t be able to do. Being able to hold an Alpha up was one of them – something about the way their bodies were built, or close to that – and Richard couldn’t help but be slightly disturbed by it.

But Lee was still _Lee_ , unchanged, and Richard was torn between what he was taught to believe, what he knew, and what he wanted to believe.)

He followed Lee into the living room, watching him place the tray on the coffee table with his thumbs shoved determinedly in the hem of his pants so he wouldn’t reach out to help. Lee didn’t need his help.

The silence between them was almost unbearable. Richard wanted to say something, anything, even if it was to joke about how Peter was going to kill them. He had a thousand questions in his mind, a hundred more already formed on the tip of his tongue, but this conversation was for Lee to start. He didn’t want to push the subject; didn’t want to try to make Lee believe… believe what, Richard wasn’t even sure about.

“My parents thought I was going to be an Alpha as I was growing up.”

Richard started, jerking his head up. Lee was staring at his hands, turning his sandwich over and over. He took a determined bite of it, and swallowed.

“I have always been tall. Skinny, but tall. I shot up like a weed but somehow I never really…” he shook his head. “But my parents never really worried. They fussed more over my siblings, because they thought that since I’m so damned tall, there’s no way that I might be anything but an Alpha. My family’s always had a mix of all three hierarchies. I think they were just always cautious that Will – my little brother – would end up being an Omega. My dad was always scared, because he’s the Omega, you see, and he didn’t want my brother to have to live with the restrictions he’s always had.”

Lee took a deep breath. Richard didn’t dare to say a word.

“My first heat surprised the hell out of everyone. Just imagine – all six foot three of me, the tallest kid in the entire school, falling to pieces because I wanted to be fucked and bred more than I wanted anything else in my life. I was seventeen then, the only person in school who hadn’t Stated yet, and Christ, it was a fucking _nightmare_.” He rubbed at his mouth, placing his sandwich on the plate. 

Richard tried not to fixate on Lee’s voice saying “fucked and bred”; tried to focus on what he was saying instead of paying attention to his reawakening cock.

Lee didn’t seem to notice, continuing, “I knew what I wanted to do with my life at the time. I wanted to be an actor, but Rich, you _know_ the restrictions they have on Omega actors.”

He sobered immediately. Yeah, Richard knew. He was an Alpha; as a result, he could play anyone. Whether it was an Alpha, Beta, or Omega, because somehow the acting circles were still fixated on laws set down during days of the theatre, when Betas and Alphas could play anyone but Omegas could only portray Omegas, because, it was said, it just wouldn’t be convincing. There would be some way in which Omegas would reveal themselves; some way that people could spot an Omega out of the crowd.

In the past, it would make sense. People in theatres could always tell because of scent. But now, in the age of the silver screen, in an age where artificial scents was an industry that earned billions, it still remained, a relic of an age long past. No one seemed to want to break it somehow.

Richard rubbed his eyes, nodding. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I know.”

Lee picked up his sandwich and started eating it again. He was a little messy, leaving mayo at the corner of his lip, and Richard wanted to reach out to wipe it off and to laugh at the same time. He looked at Lee and knew he was an Omega, but Lee destroyed the notions of what Omegas _should_ be like with everything he did. Especially now, when he finished wolfing down his food and knocked back juice like it was a shot of whiskey.

“I told my dad I didn’t want to be restricted like that. He knows better than anyone else what it’d be like for me if I’m honest about it: he’s an engineer, and he fought for the better part of ten years to even be taken seriously as an Omega surrounded by Betas. So he… fudged the official Stating paperwork for me.” Lee gave him a lopsided smile. “Please don’t tell anyone that. I don’t want to get my dad arrested.”

“I won’t,” Richard promised automatically.

Lee nodded, his eyes turning distant. “It was easy to get suppressants. My little brother Stated a couple of weeks after I did, and he was an Omega – my little sister’s the only Alpha amongst us kids. Will couldn’t hide, not like I can, so he went to get suppressants and gave me some of it. Then, one day the doctor started interrogating Will about his drug use, so I got dragged in. Eventually I told her and… well, I was lucky.” He shrugged; the movement too tense to be casual. 

The needle. Lee wasn’t actually diabetic. Richard wondered why he wasn’t more surprised. He should have known, really. There were so many tiny clues here and there, but he was an actor, and he knew better than most how easily assumptions about someone could lead to skewed perceptions.

“Do you hate it?” Richard couldn’t help but ask. “Being an Omega, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Lee said, and he was staring at his knees. Richard nudged his glass of juice over, and Lee wrapped long fingers around the glass, staring at the liquid as if he thought it could give him everything he wanted in the world. “It’s not… it’s not the part about being an Omega that I don’t want to be. People always think that I’m an Alpha and I’m not _comfortable_ with the assumption – funny, isn’t it, when I make so much effort so people will assume that way – but at the same time I _can’t_ be an Omega and have the career I want—”

“Why not?” Richard blinked. Lee shot him a look, but he shook his head immediately. “I promise this isn’t a stupid question, but things have been changing, and they’re going to keep changing.”

“I’m not an Alpha,” Lee said, and his smile was crooked and sad to see. “I can’t rule the world, much less change it.”

Slowly, very slowly, Richard stood up. He walked around the coffee table and stopped next to Lee. Leaning forward, one knee sinking into the leather couch, he reached out and cupped his face in his hands.

“You fooled me into thinking you’re an Alpha for months,” he said, and it was such an effort not to growl. “You fooled everyone for years. Whether you know it or not, Lee, you’re already changing the world. You’re doing something no one should ever be able to do.”

Lee closed his eyes, his hands coming up to clench tight on Richard’s wrist. “You say that, but you’re treating me like glass, Rich, and I can’t change that.”

Richard shook his head hard again. “Don’t mean you stop trying.”

He meant to stop there, but the words kept coming, tumbling out of his mouth, “Every single time someone meets me, they look at me like I’m a wild animal. The first time I met Adam, he looked at me like I’m about to pick him up and smash his head into the wall. He was scared of me, Lee; he was scared and I was just meeting him. I haven’t even done a single thing. He was scared because of what I am, and I can’t even blame him for it.”

He could feel himself starting to shake. Biting his lip, he threw himself backwards, away from Lee. He sank into the couch and stared down at his feet. 

“It’s not just him, but everyone I have ever met. I spent my entire life trying to- trying to reassure everyone around me that I’m not a rabid dog, that I’m not- I’m not dangerous.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “The person who is most terrified of me is _me_. Sometimes I get so angry and I start thinking that I _should_ be violent and prove everyone right, but I can’t.” He opened his eyes, seeing wide blue-green eyes staring into his own.

“You know why I can’t.”

Lee crawled forward and Richard loosened his muscles, opened his arms. They leaned into each other, their foreheads touching, breaths ghosting against each other’s mouths.

“Yeah,” Lee whispered. “Yeah, I know.” He closed his eyes, dropping his head onto Richard’s shoulder. “It takes so much effort to keep trying, to prove people wrong. I know I should, but lying is so much _easier_ and I’m a coward and- and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you, for lying to everyone.” He laughed shakily.

“I don’t want to be ashamed of being what I am, but I find myself being ashamed anyway, and that is…”

Richard slid his hand into Lee’s short hair, gently nudging him to look up. When their eyes met, he leaned forward slightly. But it was Lee who took the final step, crossing the tiny inch of distance between their lips. Then Richard couldn’t help it: he crushed Lee’s body to his own, nipping at a plush lip, and when he heard Lee gasp, felt that mouth open beneath his, he threw himself forward and laid Lee flat on the couch. They looked at each other before Lee grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him forward, and Richard finally kissed him _properly_ , tasted him, licked into his mouth and tasted all that he wanted since that night in the car. Spiced sugar, burning and soothing at once. Richard knew right then that he would never, ever be sick of this; of Lee’s mouth, of Lee’s taste.

When they finally broke apart, panting, Richard leaned his forehead against Lee’s. “I don’t want you to be ashamed of anything about yourself,” he whispered, fingers sliding through Lee’s hair. “You are… I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now.”

He took a shaky breath- and then he smelled it, and Richard’s eyes widened as he looked up at Lee. Lee was biting his own lip, his pupils expanding rapidly.

“I want you inside- inside the room. With me.” Lee’s voice might be shaky, but his hands clenched tight on Richard’s shoulders told him all he needed to know. “But…” he licked his lips. “I’m only on suppressants. Not contraceptives. There wasn’t- wasn’t a need.”

Richard had always liked the thought of having children, but… not now. _Definitely_ not now. He forced himself off of the couch, taking long breaths through his mouth even as he reached out a hand to help Lee stand up.

“Get into the bedroom,” Richard said, and his nostrils flared. “I’ll… find some condoms.”

Lee burbled a laugh, sincere even though it was cut halfway through by a gasp. Richard tried not to stare at how his thumb shoved into the waistband of his pants, nearly pulling them off.

“Why, you don’t keep any here?”

Richard shook his head, ducking his head down. “I don’t usually have sex,” he said wryly. He took a few more steps back, but he wasn’t far enough to miss Lee’s crooked grin.

“That’s a little better than me. I never do.”

Then Lee turned around, walked into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Richard clicked his mouth shut in case he caught a fly.

*

There was a box of condoms outside the suite’s door. Richard nearly tripped over it, and he bent down and picked it up.

His eyes were getting a little blurry at short distances, but the note attached to the box had Adam’s very neat writing on it.

_I think you’ll need this. Don’t worry about Peter – we’ll figure out something. Please tell Lee that we won’t say anything._  
  
Before Richard could figure out who ‘we’ were, he saw Ian’s extremely distinctive cursive.

_Enjoy yourselves, my dear boys._  
  
Richard would be amused – or even angry – if he had any brain cells left for him to be. But now he took the gift at face value, striding back to stop in front of the bedroom door. 

It was locked.

Before he knew it, he was already pulling the doorknob out of the wood and kicking the door in. He grinned at Lee, holding up the box.

(Later, he would realise that he wasn’t afraid of his own strength. Later, he would realise that, for once, it was exactly the amount of force he wanted, needed, to use. But right now—)

“Pardon me, sir,” he drawled. “But your door was locked.”

Lee laughed. He was lying on the bed, back arched as he fought to pull off Richard’s sweatpants. Richard strode forward, reaching out and dragging the material off.

God, the scent was so _strong_ here, shooting straight down his spine, gathering in his groin and Richard gasped when he felt his cock harden to almost painful intensity immediately. He looked at Lee, seeing himself in those dark eyes. Like a feral animal he looked, and Richard ignored it for the pleasures of Lee’s mouth, kissing him hard, breathing in his tiny little gasps. Lee moaned, long legs locking around Richard’s hips, pulling him close.

“Did you mean it?” Richard said, voice mangled and muffled by Lee’s lips. “That you don’t have sex?”

Lee pulled away, gasping. He was so damned _wet_ that Richard couldn’t help but reach down, stroking his fingers from Lee’s balls down to his entrance, dipping two fingertips inside. Lee was tight, so fucking tight, and their cries rang out in the room together.

“You’re a cruel bastard, Richard Armitage,” Lee said, sounding almost too coherent for Richard’s liking. “But yeah- yeah, I meant it. I’ve never-” he twisted in the sheets as Richard gently pressed his fingers inwards. He shook his head hard, sending dark hair flying all over his face. “Only- only ever had my own fingers. Never- _nngh_ \- never trusted anyone with this-”

Those words grabbed something in Richard’s chest and yanked at it. He pushed himself up and upwards, shifting between Lee’s thighs until he could look at Lee without craning his neck.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said fiercely. “Stop me if I do anything you don’t want me to. Even if it’s by punching me.”

There was a moment of silence as Lee looked at him. Then he smiled, as if to say, _That’s why I trust you._

Richard ducked his head down. If he kept looking at those eyes he would start shaking and be entirely useless. Instead, he traced the curve of Lee’s thigh with his lips, planting tiny kisses, moving upwards towards the sharply sweet scent of Lee’s heat. Lee’s muscles flexed underneath his body, trying to buck upwards, but Richard pressed his hands hard down on those strong knees and held him still.

Lifting his eyes, he caught dark, nearly glazed-over eyes for the briefest of moments before he took Lee’s cock into his mouth. Hands tightened in Richard’s hair, threatening to pull out the strands, and Lee thrust up hard, strong enough to break through Richard’s grip. Richard choked, sputtering as he tried to draw back, but Lee shoved him back down.

It had been some time since the last time he did this, and Lee was big -- the only thing that differentiated Lee’s cock from an Alpha’s was the lack of a heavy knot at the base – but it was really like riding a bicycle. Familiar enough; Richard relaxed his throat, letting the head brush the back of his throat. Above him, Lee cried out a mangled version of Richard’s name.

Lee should be distracted enough. Richard was almost surprised at how clear his mind was; how focused he was on Lee, every single sense focused on him. He knew somehow the level of readiness Lee was at, and he pushed two fingers inside, crooking them immediately. It was easy, so _easy_ with Lee. All of his anxiety had melted away, dissolved by the scent of Lee’s want, in the sound of his voice when Lee gripped his waist tight with his thighs and thrust down towards his fingers.

“Fuck me,” Lee said hoarsely. “Please, Richard. Please get inside me. Need you,” he writhed on the bed. “More than ready. Been ready for hours.” He gasped, voice breaking, dipping even lower. “ _Richard_!”

Richard didn’t move. Despite Lee’s words, he knew that Lee wasn’t ready, not yet. He pulled back until he only had the head of Lee’s cock in his mouth, and he sucked hard. At the same time, he pushed another finger inside, still searching.

When he found the spot, the body beneath his twisted, tensed, and Lee came with a hoarse scream. There was the smallest rush of salt on Richard’s tongue, but Lee’s cock remained hard. He licked it, feeling more than hearing the groan that reverberated throughout Lee.

Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ in Richard’s forty-something years of life had felt like this. Like being here, focusing on bringing pleasure to Lee, was the most important thing he had ever done in his life. Like there was nothing else he needed to do because the world outside had entirely vanished the moment he stepped through the door. Just once wouldn’t be enough, Richard knew. He could feel an addiction growing, joining his heart and mind and body all at once. 

If he could, he would remain addicted for his whole life.

He took a long deep breath and bent his knees, pulling himself back until all contact was lost between them. Lee made a small sound, panting, but his eyes were clear as he looked up at Richard. His hand traced Richard’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

“Get your clothes off and fuck me,” Lee rasped. Fingers tugged on Richard’s collar.

Funny, he hadn’t even noticed his clothes were still on. Richard grinned sheepishly, pulling off his ruined shirt and shucking his pants. Kicking them off the side of the bed, he grabbed a condom and tossed the box towards the nightstand. (It landed perfectly.)

“You’re being impatient,” he said, voice muffled by the silver foil in his mouth.

“I think we’ve been waiting for this for months.” Despite the smile, Lee sounded almost sombre. “At least I have. I’ve wanted you even before I kissed you.”

Their eyes caught each other, and Richard leaned forward. He brushed Lee’s hair out of his eyes, lowering his head down to brush their lips together.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It must’ve been painful to watch me moon over Graham.”

Lee chuckled quietly, his thumb rubbing against Richard’s bottom lip. “I’m used to not having what I want when it comes to people,” he whispered. Richard’s heart twisted again, but Lee shook his head, looking up with his lashes hooded. “Will you teach me how to feel when I do have what I want?”

Richard sucked in a breath. He cupped Lee’s face with both hands, crashing their lips together because there were no possible words, none at all, that could encompass all that he felt for this man, this man who came into his life and was nothing he expected and everything he wished for.

“I’m not going to say anything stupid right now,” he had to force the words past his throat. “But I will. I will keep teaching you until you’re sick of me.”

Lee’s smile widened. He reached back, grabbing the headboard before he pulled himself backwards. Slowly, as Richard watched, he spread his legs. He tossed his head back, his hand stroking down his own body, all the way down until his fingertips dipped inside his wet hole.

“Stop making me do everything myself,” he said, halfway to laughter.

Richard’s hand closed around Lee’s wrist. As if in slow motion, he pulled the arm up, leaning in and closing his lips around Lee’s fingers. He kept his eyes fixed on Lee’s, watching as Lee’s eyes widen, his breaths coming even faster.

It was only fair, the part of his brain still capable of coherent thought said, to make Lee feel the same intensity of desire Richard did.

“I don’t want this to be mindless rutting,” he tilted his head, his tongue slipping to and fro the thin webbing. “I want to-” He swallowed, “I want to take my time with you.”

Lee pushed himself up, his eyes heavy-lidded as his hands slid over Richard’s shoulders, plastering their chests together until Richard could hear the _thumpthumpthump_ of Lee’s heart.

“Take all the time you need,” Lee whispered, his lips mouthing the words against the curve of Richard’s ear. “But you know what I want, Rich. You know I’m going to start begging you in a few seconds and I won’t stop, I won’t stop because my body wants your cock so badly that I can feel my insides clenching. I’m _empty_ , Rich, and it’s painful.” His breath was hot on Richard’s skin. “Do you really want to make me wait?”

Richard couldn’t breathe. How could he even think of resisting words like that? His lips parted, and silver foil fell between them. He felt himself blushing almost immediately, reaching downwards- but Lee was already picking up the condom, his eyes on Richard’s as he tore off the top and spat it out.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

Before Richard could even say a single word in reply, Lee was pushing himself backwards. Slowly, deliberately, he drew the condom down Richard’s cock, soft fingertips brushing against the heavy knot at the base, and Richard let out a soft groan.

He meant it when he said that he wanted to take it slow, Richard really did. But everything inside him screamed for him to take what was so freely offered, to _have_ , and he grabbed both of Lee’s thighs, pulled them open. Lee’s scent was intoxicating, better than any drug, and he leaned in and kissed him again, pressed their lips together hard. His fingers ghosted across Lee’s entrance, feeling it clench down and release, and he swallowed Lee’s gasp as he pushed inside him.

Heat. Heat like a burning furnace, and _so tight_ that Richard felt his breath being squeezed out of him. But breathing seemed unnecessary when he felt how slick Lee was, how much Richard was wanted, and he lifted his head to watch as Lee’s head fell back amongst the pillows; watched as Lee arched his back, his legs tensing in Richard’s grip as he tried to spread them further. 

Richard drew back almost entirely, thrust back in slow. He barely paid any attention to himself, all of his attention fixated upon Lee’s eyes, watching surprise melt into pleasure. Lee gave him a small gasp, hot breath a wisp against Richard’s cheek. His hand crept downwards again, fingertips brushing the insides of his own thigh. Richard shivered as he felt those fingers ghosting against the spot where they were joined, where Lee opened to him, his hole spread wide around Richard’s cock.

There was no more need for words. Richard gritted his teeth, hands slapping the mattress beside Lee’s head as he fell forward. He angled his hips, pulled out and slammed in hard enough to smack the headboard against the wall. Lee made a sound deep in the base of his throat, and Richard liked that sound, like the way Lee’s mouth parted to make it.

So he did it again. And again.

It would be over almost a little bit too quickly. Richard made a note to himself to do this again, to keep doing this _always_ , before he fucked Lee hard, fucked him hard enough to make the bedsprings creak and the headboard thump a steady rhythm against the wall. Every thrust was deep, sliding past Lee’s prostate, wringing moans and groans and gasps out of both of them until their harsh noises filled the room and made Richard impossibly harder, made his knot grow heavy at the base of his cock.

_Mine_ , Richard thought, and he was almost terrified at the sheer ferocity of his claim. _Mine, mine, mine_.

“Yours,” Lee rasped out, and Richard looked at him, startled because he didn’t even realise that he was speaking out loud. “Yours, yours, _yours_. Richard!” He writhed on the bed, thrusting down hard on Richard’s cock, fingers clawing at his back. Their eyes met, and Lee licked his lips.

“I’ve been yours since the first time we met.”

Their mouths crashed together, teeth clacking loudly. Richard let Lee take his mouth; sliding his tongue against Lee’s as if it could ink his claim on skin just by touch. His hands tightened around strong thighs, pulling Lee’s body down onto his cock, drawing back and slamming inside.

“Wish I don’t have this condom on right now,” he growled, voice mangled by need. His breath skittered across Lee’s skin. “Wish I can touch you from the inside like this. I want to come in you, fill you up on the inside. I want to _breed_ you until you grow big with my children, until everyone who looks at you knows,” he pushed himself back, wild eyes fixing on Lee’s, “You. Are. Mine.”

He punctuated every word with a hard thrust, shoving the two of up the bed, sweat-slicked skin sliding on the sheets.

Lee’s eyes were wide on his, his lips parted, and he _screamed_ when Richard fucked into him again, spread him wide open. His cock jerked between them, but Richard didn’t even stop. He gripped tighter onto Lee, onto this man who should belong wholly to him, and fucked him through his orgasm, dragged tiny little whimpers out from Lee’s throat as fingers clawed at his skin, leaving little trails of flames.

“Rich- Richard, _God_ ,” broken little sounds were escaping Lee, and Richard smiled, baring his teeth as he thrust hard, the sounds of their skin slapping together loud in the room.

Lee gasped, writhed, and he arched his back hard and Richard felt his insides clamp down hard as Lee came again. Long arms raised, covering his eyes as Lee made a sound like a sob, tossing his head back and forth. Then, before he knew what he was doing, Richard was reaching forward, gripping tight to Lee’s wrists as he pull them away from his face, slamming them down to the mattress.

“Look at me,” his own voice was arousal-hoarse, rumbling from the base of his throat. “ _Look at me_.”

Slowly, dark eyes opened. Lee was panting hard, his chest heaving, his lips trembling with every breath he took. His fingers brushed Richard’s jaw gently, moving up to stroke his thumb over Richard’s brow.

“I’m looking at you,” Lee rasped. A finger slid down to brush over Richard’s lips, and Richard licked it, tasting salt and spiced sugar. He bit down hard on the tip, nearly breaking the skin before he opened his mouth and jerked his head again. His hand flattened out over Lee’s chest, moved downwards to splay upon his abs, and Richard didn’t even know what he was doing. Instinct drove every action, barely tempered by all that he felt for this man.

They looked at each other for long moments before Lee arched again. His heel dug into Richard’s back, marking a harsh line up the spine. Richard dipped his head down, caught hazel-rimmed eyes with his own, and he leaned in and brushed their lips together.

Then he pulled out entirely. He flipped Lee over onto his front, grabbing his hips and dragging him up. His arm wrapped around a strong, broad chest, pulling Lee up, and Lee’s head snapped back, pressed tight against Richard’s shoulder. Hands clawed at Richard’s arms, hips, and Lee made a low, sobbing noise that shot right down Richard’s spine.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasped. Richard barely knew himself anymore. 

“Your cock, your hands,” Lee babbled, his head falling back onto Richard’s shoulder, baring his long, white throat. “Fuck me- touch me- Richard, _God_ , make me yours, mark me, _knot_ me.”

Richard pushed back inside, letting Lee’s heat envelop him again. Lee trembled in his arms, broken little sounds escaping his throat as if he had lost all control over his voice, and Richard remembered how much control Lee had over himself. He shuddered hard: _he_ did this. Only he could do this.

If Richard had anything to do about it, there would only be him.

He snapped his hips again, burying himself as deep as he could, drew out, and with the next thrust he pushed two of his fingers inside with his cock, spreading Lee even wider. Lee gasped, in surprise, in pain, and Richard drew his hands over his nipples, twisting them until the pain faded away to be replaced by incoherent pleasure again.

Lee was begging, pleading, and Richard didn’t need words to know what he was asking for. He smiled to himself, baring his teeth. Both hands held tight to Lee’s hips and his teeth sank down on strong shoulder muscles as he slammed in hard, hard enough to push his knot inside.

Lee’s head snapped back as he screamed again, screamed Richard’s name, and his entrance clenched down hard, locking Richard’s knot inside him, clenching and unclenching around his cock deep inside. Richard closed his eyes, pressed in as deep as he could.

He came with his teeth sank deep into Lee’s skin, feeling Lee shaking in his arms, hearing the echoes of his own name bouncing off the walls of the bedroom.

*

Richard’s knot wouldn’t subside for hours. They were laying side back side on the bed now, Lee tucked into Richard’s arms with Richard’s leg draped over his thigh. Lee was making soft little pleased noises, and Richard couldn’t help but nudge his hips forward slightly, rubbing the head of his cock against Lee’s prostate, and feel the way Lee’s voice choked in his lungs.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, a hand sliding down Lee’s side, feeling soft skin peppered with hair. “Have anyone ever told you that? You’re gorgeous.”

Lee laughed quietly. He turned around, meeting Richard’s eyes, and when their lips touched Richard wished he had the energy to kiss him hard. But this was alright as well, the way their tongues slid against each other.

“I’m too tall and angular and broad with too much hair and my eyebrows look like caterpillars,” Lee said, sounding as if he was listing things he thought about for a very long time. He chuckled quietly, and Richard couldn’t help but pull him closer at the sound, trying to give him a connection that went beyond their bodies. “Too much like an Alpha for an Omega, not really an Alpha…” 

“Hey,” Richard whispered. His lips brushed over the curve of Lee’s ear. “I meant what I said.”

Lee grabbed his hand, pulling it up, and Richard felt rough lips brush against his knuckles. “Yeah,” Lee said. “I know.”

Richard smiled slightly, the upward curve of his lips pressed against Lee’s neck, and he took a long breath. The room smelled of sex; of the unmistakeable scent of Omega, of _Lee_ , and Richard wished his knot would subside quicker so he could fuck Lee again.

“Do you mean what you said?” Lee asked suddenly. “The other thing you said.”

Richard blinked. He wished he could see Lee’s face. “I said a lot of things.”

“The bit about you wanting to breed me,” Lee’s voice was so quiet Richard had to strain to hear him. He heard Lee take a shaky breath in, felt his chest expand and heart start beating faster under his own hand. “Do you mean that?”

Did he mean it? Omegas weren’t the only ones whose words couldn’t be taken seriously during sex. Instincts had a horribly strong grasp on Alphas in a manner that had always been rather unbecoming to decency and any form of society, but Richard tried to get past his instinctive denial. The question was too important.

“I always wanted kids of my own,” Richard said, almost muffling his voice against Lee’s neck. “But I never really thought I would, because… well.” He coughed. It was embarrassing; his knot was still buried inside Lee, and he was blushing at revealing something of himself. “You’re the first non-Alpha I’ve ever wanted.”

Lee made a soft sound. He leaned back against Richard, and silence fell over the two of them like a blanket. Richard would be nervous about it, but somehow it was comfortable, with Lee still joined to him, their legs tangled together, every inch of their skin touching where it was capable to touch.

“There’s this girl I met a few years ago,” Lee’s voice was soft. “Her name is Catinca, and she’s the most adorable little girl I’ve ever met in my life. She was six when I met her – she should be a teenager by now – and she’s sweet and clever and I love her so much. I can’t help but love her, really, and at the time I thought that…” He let out a soft sigh.

“It’ll be nice, to have a daughter.”

Richard remained silent. He was receiving a gift that Lee didn’t give to anyone else, and somehow his hands felt full and empty all at once, because Lee had given him so much and Richard didn’t know how he could even reciprocate. How could he give Lee as much as Lee had given him? He had very little; there was only himself left.

“I’ve never thought I’ll ever marry, or even find someone to have children with. It’s hard to when you’ve spent your life pretending that you’re something that you’re not. I thought of adopting, once or twice, but I can’t do that, I can’t-” Lee took a long, shuddering breath, and Richard held him even tighter. “I can’t lie to my own kids.”  
 _  
I’m used to not having what I want when it comes to people._ Lee’s own words now hovered in the air around him, more suffocating than any smell of sex could be.

There were no words Richard could say. There were promises he wanted to make, but it was too soon and though Richard was sure of his own heart, it would be ludicrous to promise Lee the world when it was the world itself that was the problem. Richard brushed his lips against Lee’s shoulder, right above the mark of his own teeth, and he nudged at Lee’s jaw. When Lee turned around, he kissed him, soft and sweet and slow, trying to tell him everything that he could find no words to articulate. 

“I don’t have the right answers,” he told Lee. “I only know that I don’t plan to let you go any time soon, and if you’ll let me, I’ll like to find those answers with you.”

He hoped it wouldn’t be too much.

“Well,” Lee said. “You physically can’t let me go for some time.” 

“I don’t mean that,” Richard replied immediately. “I don’t mean time in the manner of minutes, or hours, or days, or weeks. I don’t mean months, Lee.” _I mean years; I mean lifetimes,_ he did not say, but he nonetheless he took the plunge, and laid out the rest of his life at Lee’s feet like Yeats had spread his dreams.

“The dangerous things about dreams,” Lee breathed, as if quoting something. “You begin to believe they might come true.”

“Maybe,” Richard said, and he might be a fool, or too optimistic, but… “But that’s the wonderful thing about dreams as well.” 

Lee kissed him again, but Richard couldn’t help but tighten his grip, fingers sinking into Lee’s strong shoulders, trying to believe if he held on long enough, he could tear a hole from the fabric of the world, a space where he and Lee could simply have each other. He knew he couldn’t, because that wasn’t how the world worked.

But he wanted to try, nonetheless. After all, there was little else an Alpha’s strength was good for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Pardon me, sir,” he drawled. “But your door was locked.”_  
>  \- The whole scene, including Richard breaking down the door, is stolen and bastardised (har har) from Richard Sharpe's first time with Lucille in _Sharpe's Revenge_.
> 
> _"Look at me."_  
>  \- bastardised from John Thornton in _North and South_
> 
> _“The dangerous things about dreams... You begin to believe they might come true."_  
>  \- Calpernia Addams, _Soldier's Girl_
> 
> _"like Yeats had spread his dreams"_  
>  \- _[He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven](http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-wishes-for-the-cloths-of-heaven/)_ , by William Butler Yeats


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard does something that he's embarrassed about, but doesn't entirely regret. Oh, and Graham might just be a sneaky bastard.

**Part V**

One of the mysteries of the world that remained even after filming was over was this: no one knew whose iPod it was on that day.

A couple of weeks passed since Richard and Lee disappeared for three days. When they came back, there were no real questions asked, because New Zealand’s weather cropped up again and there was a sudden thunderstorm that lasted for two days. (Richard should feel guilty that he was happy about the disrupted schedule, but he didn’t.)

But Peter knew, nonetheless, and he dragged Lee and Richard aside one day to confirm with them that whatever they were doing, whatever their relationship was, wouldn’t interfere with the film. Lee and Richard promised that it wouldn’t, and in return Peter told him that he would say nothing.

Fat load that promise did, really, with what happened later.

That morning began as any other morning on the Dale set. It was on location, so everyone was squeezed into three or four makeup trailers to save space. Lee and Richard were assigned with Martin, James, Graham and Ian. Aside from James and Ian’s continuing ‘my sense of humour slash penis is bigger than yours’ competition (Martin’s words, not Richard’s), it was usually pretty quiet and peaceful. Richard was constantly thankful that he didn’t share a makeup trailer with Aidan and Dean – he loved his onscreen nephews, but there was something called ‘overexposure’.

That was, it was _usually_ peaceful.

Lee was done with his makeup and was waiting for everyone else to be done so they could head towards Costumes together. He leaned against the trailer wall in Thranduil’s wig and his usual jeans and t-shirt combo (Richard’sshirt, but no one else knew that then) in the corner quietly, tapping his feet to the jazz coming through the speakers, his nose buried in a book.

Then _[that song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4eIDtwcFXcI)_ came on.

Lee started snapping his fingers first to the rhythm. Richard grinned out of the corner of his eyes, watching him try to continue reading his book while so clearly distracted.  
  
 _Never know how much I love you_  
 _Never know how much I care_  
  
Lee placed his book to the side, his eyes turning to the speakers. His thumb hooked into his jeans as he started to jerk his hips and shoulders to the beat, lips mouthing the song. A finger pressed onto a plush bottom lip, and Lee bit down on the tip.

Richard could practically feel his mouth go dry.

_When you put your arms around me_  
 _I get a fever that's so hard to bear_  
 _You give me fever when you kiss me_  
 _Fever when you hold me tight_  
  
The trailer had gone completely silent. Lee pushed a hand into Thranduil’s hair, dragging down the strands as he flung it away from his face. His eyes were closed, and Richard stopped hearing anything but his own heartbeat as he watched Lee wrap arms around himself. 

Oh _God_.

_Fever ... in the mornin'_  
 _Fever all through the night_  
  
Peggy Lee’s voice resounded through the completely still air of the trailer, and Richard sucked in a breath through his teeth as Lee slid a hand down his side, curving into his own hips down to the inside of his thigh. With the next drum beat, he threw his head backwards, his spine arching, and Richard _knew_ that pose.

It was as if Lee was having sex while standing up; having sex with the song. Richard flattened his palms on his own thighs so he wouldn’t break the makeup chair. There were at least two burning pairs of eyes turned towards him, but at the moment he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

_Sun lights up the day time_  
 _Moon lights up the night_  
 _I light up when you call my name_  
 _'cause I know you're gonna treat me right_

The snapping of fingers nearly broke through Richard’s revelry, but it was Lee, and his attention was fixed on him anyway. He stared, his head now completely turned, as one of Lee’s hand settled on a hip, letting it jut out with every snap of the fingers. Like an invitation. Richard reminded himself to breathe.

Lee opened his eyes. Their gazes caught, and Lee _smiled_ – a cheeky little thing, such a clear tease – before his knees bent. Fingertips brushed against ankles, drawing upwards, marking a path from calf to thigh to hips before Lee sway from the balls of his feet up to his shoulders, tossing Thranduil’s hair away from his eyes.  
 __  
 _You give me fever when you kiss me_  
 _Fever when you hold me tight_  
 _Fever ... in the mornin'_  
 _Fever all through the night_  
  
“There you go, Richard. You’re done.”

Richard couldn’t even move. He pushed his feet against the floor, spinning around until he was facing Lee directly. And Lee, the goddamned tease, walked over to him, swaying his body with every step. A hand hit the leather upholstery next to Richard’s head, and plush, perfectly-bowed lips were still mouthing the words.

His hand reached out. Grabbed Lee by the collar of his shirt. Even before he noticed what he was doing, he was dragging Lee forward, crashing their mouths together. Without breaking contact, he stood up, using his broader chest to walk Lee backwards. The ground shook when Lee’s back hit the trailer wall, Richard didn’t care. He leaned in even more, their chests plastering together, one hand sliding into Thranduil’s wig to tug Lee’s head back, all the way back until Richard could plunder his mouth with ease.

He would have fucked Lee right there, in front of their friends and the makeup department, in front of the entire world, because nothing existed except for Lee. Nothing else held any importance.

But two things happened at once: the trailer door opened, and the music switched off.

“Hey, are you guys done— _woah_.” Aidan’s voice.

“I believe all of you owe me money.” Ian’s voice.

Richard broke the kiss, and immediately he dropped his head onto Lee’s shoulder, burying his face, groaning. He couldn’t believe that he just _did_ that, and right in front of everyone as well.

“This is your fault,” he grumbled, keeping his voice low.

Lee’s chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending a shot of heat down Richard’s spine that made him tremble. An arm wrapped around him, and Richard was almost tempted to turn around and bite it like a belligerent five-year-old.

“It probably is, yeah, but I can’t resist that song,” Lee said, and there was no apology in his voice at all. He turned his head, pressing a kiss on Richard’s brow that he could barely feel through the layers of prosthetics. “It brings back memories.”

“Seriously, Richard, couldn’t you have waited a month or two more? _I_ would’ve won the bet then, and I’ll even share the winnings!”

Richard craned his head back, lips parting to say _something_ to James – most likely about how they were all rude bastards to bet on his love life – but Martin cut in.

“I’m not saying you don’t dance well, Lee, but this is all a little traumatising,” he drawled, mockery and sincerity weaving together like always in his speech. “I’m scarred now.”

“No, you’re not,” Richard protested, and immediately buried his face in his hands when everyone turned to look at him.

Lee seemed to have no qualms or shame whatsoever. Richard felt him shrug, and he groaned under his breath when Lee said, far too casually, “It’s not as if we were fucking right in front of you.”

“Oh, _fuck_ you, Lee, now we’re all thinking about it,” Martin groused.

“I’m not complaining,” Ian said mildly. “Those are lovely images.”

“Quite, actually,” Lee chirped up again. Richard turned to glare at him, but Lee only grinned, unrepentant, and Richard pressed his hand against those plush lips. (A part of his mind told him that there was a far more pleasurable method to get Lee to shut up, but he dismissed it; he knew exactly how he even managed to land himself in this situation in the first place.)

He tried to glare at his friends. It probably wasn’t effective given the flush he could feel burning his skin. 

“Are we starting a tradition? Is there something in the water?” James’s eyes were wide, and he waved a hand. “Ian, Graham, the two of you won’t be doing something absolutely _shocking_ , aren’t you?”

He paused. Aidan made noises like a dying hippopotamus and punched the wall of trailer hard enough to make it shake. It was probably lucky that the boy was a Beta, really.

Ian smiled genially. He steepled his hands together.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, James, dear boy?” he said in his most polished public school accent, peppered with a small Shakespearean lilt.

“Ian looks like an evil Bond villain,” Lee muttered from behind Richard’s hand, his breath hot on skin. “I think he just needs a purring cat on his lap.”

Richard tried his best to not choke on air. Ian turned an amused look at the two of them and he pulled Lee closer, letting his hand dropped to his side as he tried to hide himself behind the long fall of Thranduil’s hair. Lee laughed close to his ear, his arm winding around Richard’s waist, holding him close. Richard placed his hand on Lee’s shoulder, feeling the heat of his skin and the slow thrum of his pulse.

“Quite unfortunately, I don’t have a thing for evil Bond villains,” Graham said, sounding so serious that Aidan howled, fell backwards, and nearly toppled off the stairs. Or maybe, Richard thought wryly, Aidan was just far easier to amuse than the rest of them, though even Martin was hiding a smile behind his hand and the makeup artists were all giggling.

Ian laid a delicate hand on his own breast. “That is a shot to the heart, Graham. How immensely cruel of you,” he drawled out. Richard sank his teeth into his own shirt – draped over Lee’s shoulder – so he wouldn’t start giggling at _Sir Ian McKellen_ using a Bon Jovi quote. He could feel the vibrations of Lee’s laughter against his own skin.

Graham swept his arm out and bowed, “I only serve to please.” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “Or, in this case, serve to refuse to displease.” Another pause, and he shrugged. “However that works. Damn those double negations.”

Martin gave a very slow, sarcastic applause. “Bravo, Graham, bravo. The English grammar bows to you.”

“I’m Scottish,” Graham shot back tartly. “Fuck you sassanacks and your sassanacking language.”

There was a pause, a rather confused silence.

“That was not English,” Martin noted. “In case, you know, you haven’t realised.”

“It’s a rude word,” James said, equally helpful. “At least, it sounds like a rude word.”

Ian opened his mouth. The banter would have gone on for forever (and Richard knew that as a fact, because there were plenty of nights in the bar when Martin, Ian, and James just would not shut up in their attempts to one-up each other) but Jed – half-Nori and half-himself – poked his head in through the door. He didn’t even look as he gently prodded Aidan back into a standing position from where the boy was almost falling off the stairs.

“Costume’s calling, if you all are finished laughing like hyenas.” Jed paused, visibly struggling with himself. “What on Earth are you all laughing about?”

“I won the bet,” Ian said.

“What bet?”

Ian jerked his thumb over to the two of them, and Richard instinctively pulled Lee even closer, his fingers threatening to unseat Thranduil’s wig so he could bury them into real, soft dark strands. But Lee only turned to smile at him, an expression so sweet Richard couldn’t help but return one of his own, their foreheads touching as they leaned against each other.

“… Oh,” Jed said. “ _Damn_ , there goes my money.”

“You’re getting the PG-rated version right now, by the way. It was much more X-rated a few minutes ago,” Martin informed the world. “Also, I’m getting my arse to Costumes, and all of your arses are following me.”

“Ah, yes, because yours is a delectable arse, Martin,” James teased. Martin flipped him the bird over his shoulder without turning (which sent Aidan into a paroxysm of giggles that result in him nearly falling into Jed’s Nori wig) before he trotted off. 

Richard smiled slightly. The cast was all rather crazy, but at the same time it was a good thing, because his and Lee’s relationship would just become another part of filming, unremarkable except for a few jabs once in a while. He stepped out from behind the long fall of blond hair, lifting his eyes up just in time to catch Graham’s gaze. Graham was grinning widely, and he flashed a thumbs-up right before he left the makeup trailer. 

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Lee’s quiet smile. “You need to talk to him?”

It was a massive relief to have one person who knew exactly what he was thinking without him having to voice it. Richard thought wryly that it was almost like those romance novel tropes about bonded couples having a telepathic connection, except it was even better because there were plenty of thoughts he had that he wouldn’t want even Lee to know. He nodded.

“I’ll wait for you after we’re done here?”

“Yeah,” Richard said, and he lifted Lee’s hand to place a soft kiss at the wrist. “That’d be great.”

“Get your asses moving, lovebirds, before Costumes cut all of ours off,” Jed shouted from the door. Richard turned, grinning, and the two of them peeled themselves off of the wall and followed their friends.

Their hands weren’t linked. But Richard could feel Lee’s heat beside him, and that was enough.

***

Graham was leaning against Jed’s trailer door by the time Richard finished scrubbing Thorin off of his skin for the day. He was having another illicit smoke, and Richard smiled slightly to himself as he jogged up towards the other man.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Graham said through his cigarette. He cocked his head. “I’m going out for a drink with the lads. Do you want to come with us?”

“No, I have-“ _Lee waiting for me_ , he almost said, but changed what he was going to say at the last second. “I have other plans.”

“Lee, huh?” Graham grinned. He reached out and punched Richard gently on the shoulder. “Don’t abandon your Dwarven comrades for the Elf entirely, alright? We’ll harass you endlessly if you do.”

“I won’t,” Richard promised. Staring at his feet, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hey,” he asked the ground. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“That sounds ominous,” Graham teased. Richard snuck a look upwards, but Graham was still smiling. The broader man jerked his head to the side. “Let’s go over there. The lads are meeting ‘round here, and I don’t think you want eavesdroppers.”

Richard shook his head, following Graham silently to rather secluded corner near Jed’s trailer. There were a bunch of such corners in the park, created by the placements of the trailers themselves, and he followed Graham to sit on the ground, his back against a prop wall.

“I was wondering…” he began, and nearly winced at how stupid the words sounded. Better just jump into it, he told him. Looking into Graham’s eyes, he took a deep breath, “Do you remember what you told me in the craft tents a couple of weeks ago? That you think Lee and I have a thing?”

Graham nodded. He tossed his finished cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his shoe. “Yeah, I do.”

“What made you say something like that? What… I don’t know, what gave you the impression?”

There was a long silence as Graham stared at the crushed butt. Richard almost started to fidget, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but then Graham chuckled quietly and looked at him.

“I’ll tell you why, but you have to promise me that you won’t be angry about what I say.”

Richard blinked. “I won’t,” he said. His curiosity was almost swallowing him by this point, but he laid his hands flat on his knees and told himself to be patient.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Graham said quietly. Richard’s heart skipped a beat, and he almost spoke, but Graham was already continuing. “I saw you looked at me, and when you started hanging out with Lee, I… well, best way to put it is, I took a gamble.”

“What?”

“Well, you see, I was thinking- at the very least, it’ll make you two think about what might be there, you know what I mean? And if there isn’t, you can just… have it as a joke between the two of you, no harm done.” Graham rubbed at his nose, clearly nervous. “When nothing seemed to have happened between you two… well, I got to admit, I was nervous about it for a long while.”

“You…” Richard unstuck his throat, his eyes wide on Graham. “You _knew_ that I-”

“I knew you wanted me, aye,” Graham said wryly. He leaned back against the prop wall, giving Richard an abashed look. “And I meddled in your love life.” He paused, “I’m sorry I did.”

“No,” Richard waved a hand, almost frantic. He shifted, leaning forward and practically boring holes into Graham’s face with his stare. “No, that’s not important- you _knew_ I wanted you?”

He couldn’t continue, couldn’t say: _And you have no problems with it?_ The situation suddenly seemed so surreal.

“Rich,” Graham’s voice was gentle and his hands were warm on Richard’s shoulders. “I worked with Sean Bean in one of the _Sharpe_ movies, and Mortensen’s with him on the set. Love is love, and the only bit that made me uncomfortable was that I can’t return what you feel for me. You’re a good friend of mine, but I’ll be lying if I say that I’m not glad when you turned your eyes to Lee.” Graham laughed sheepishly, pulling away and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Was making me feel all guilty that I can’t give what you wanted from me.”

Graham looked up, and his smile was soft as he gripped Richard tight on the shoulder. “You deserve to have everything of the person you love, Rich. Everyone does, but you, I think, you deserve it more than most.”

Richard wanted to laugh; the situation was almost absurd. He was surprised because he knew how easily attraction could turn a friendship sour, especially between Alphas, and though Graham’s words reassured him, Richard couldn’t help but feel like a liar, an imposter, because Graham obviously assumed that Richard and Lee had a homosexual, homohierarchal relationship. That Lee was an Alpha, and Richard was afraid of being judged for it.

Was that how Lee felt all the time? To have this strange weight in his chest, pressing down on his chest until every breath felt like a struggle? To feel like he was a _fake,_ because he was lying to someone who had no idea that they were lying?

But it was not Richard’s secret to tell. 

He rubbed hard at his eyes. Almost impulsively, he reached out and grabbed Graham by the shoulders, pulling him in for a rough, tight hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Graham chuckled, his hand slapping Richard’s back hard a few times. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “You’re sure you’re not mad at me for being a meddling bastard?”

“No,” Richard said, and he realised he was speaking the truth. He wasn’t angry. Graham’s teasing started the ball rolling with his and Lee’s first kiss, after all. Although Richard knew he should be at least grumpy about someone interfering with his love life, it was so obvious that Graham was well-intentioned. That Graham was accepting enough not only to be alright with Richard’s infatuation with him, but to set him up with someone he thought was an Alpha.

(But how far did a person’s tolerance stand, especially if they felt like they had been lied to?

Richard wondered if Lee thought like that all the time, and how he could stand doing something like that.)

“I’m not angry,” he said. 

“Good,” Graham smiled widely as he pulled away. “Now I’ve got to go before the lads start hollering for me.”

Aidan’s voice rang out then, as if on cue: “Graham! Scottish bastard, stop primping and get your arse down here!” 

Graham pushed himself to stand up, reaching down a hand. Richard took it, standing up, and they looked at each other for a long moment.

“A little bit too late,” Richard murmured, chuckling under his breath.

“Aye,” Graham laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rich?”

Richard nodded. He watched as Graham walked off to join the lads. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Lee’s long, lanky figure exit the makeup trailer, and Richard’s body was already turning towards him before his mind managed to catch up.

They would have to talk about this, he realised. Lee’s secrets were now Richard’s secrets, and he had never been particularly good at lying. He had always been too honest – he never pretended, only became – and he knew eventually he wouldn’t be able to take the weight of being guilty of lying by omission. But he refused to believe that there was anything about himself or Lee that needed changing.

If Lee was Alpha-like enough to fool everyone but Ian, then he was Alpha-like enough to change the world.

Richard believed in that. He believed that Lee could do anything. And maybe, just maybe, he was a strong enough Alpha to help Lee with it. 

(After all, he did nothing by halves. Not even falling in love.)  
 __  
End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be a sequel to this, I think. Tentative title is _last flight out_ (my fics tend to be named after song titles, and I was going for Snow Patrol but the Plus One song fits so well it's ridiculous). I don't know what's going to be in it yet. I have ideas, but the ideas are not coherent in any sense so I'm kind of banging my head against the wall trying to get all of my ideas to drop from the broom closet of my mind into my fingers. That's one belaboured metaphor. Uh. 
> 
> Anyway my point is that I'm like a headless chicken regarding what's going to be up next so I'll just like to ask everyone what you'd want to see in this 'verse and I'll try my best to fulfill your wish. 8D
> 
> And thank you everyone who followed me through this, whether on AO3 or on hobbit_kink. ♥!


End file.
